Feral
by Soline
Summary: On the night Voldemort wins, Hermione is bitten by a werewolf in human form. Lucius buys Hermione at a human wolf auction to pursue revenge, but Fenrir's human cub cannot be caged.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Chapter One**

Hermione started her morning off the same, repetitive way as she had for the past two weeks. She shook out her blanket and folded it before setting it against the wall to craft a semi-comfortable seat. She used the bucket in the opposite corner that served as a toilet and covered it again with a small board. On Sunday's and Thursday's, a clean bucket of water was placed in her cell, along with the food that came daily, every night while she slept. Hermione stripped off the thin robe she wore, wiped down her body and dipped her hair in the bucket, and then ate the small breakfast that was given to her.

And every day she examined her wound.

On the night Hogwarts was attacked, when all the Death Eaters infiltrated those walls, Hermione had been bitten. She knew it was Fenrir the moment she saw him in the empty passageway. He was in his human form and still as terrifying. He only grinned wordlessly and hunted her down like prey, finally trapping her in a dead end nearly thirty minutes from where they first saw each other. She had fought hard and he probably had wounds of his own to prove it. In the end, he snapped her wand.

The strength with which Fenrir trapped her against the wall was surprisingly gentle, but his bared, bloodied teeth promised more. Hermione remembered her fist clipping his nose and it cracked. If she did break his nose, it didn't faze him. He tore the robes away from her shoulder and sunk his human teeth into the skin there. She could still feel the strangled whimper that erupted from her throat and the way it burned. She may have thrown up.

She sagged, her arms falling limp over his shoulders as he gathered the blood from her skin. Her veins were cold and thick with venom, making Hermione dizzy. He stopped abruptly, pulling his teeth away and pressing her robes to the wound as if to stop the bleeding. Her forehead fell hard onto his collarbone and he had scooped her up almost caringly.

The cell welcomed her when she awoke. She had seen no one for two weeks. House elves, she supposed, came while she slept. The wound seemed to be healing slowly over time, but it still looked rather nasty. She thought it was probably infected.

Hermione pulled her robe back on and ran her fingers through her hair, thinking that she had only cried once since she arrived. She was quite surprised at herself; she was handling the situation very nicely. Although, as she watched last night's moon sink away through the small, barred window, Hermione got nervous. It was nearly full, and she had no idea what being bitten by a wolf in human form would do to her.

So she waited the day out. Although she was never one for athleticism, she had been busying herself with push-ups everyday. Today she reached thirty in one go. Then she washed her face in the wash bucket and was finishing the braid in her hair when the cell door creaked open for the first time.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise, but while Lucius Malfoy wrinkled his nose at her living conditions, she reached over to the pile of stones she had collected when she arrived. When his eyes finally fell on her, she was standing quite solidly with her arm cocked back to deliver a heavy blow.

"No need for throwing stones, Miss Granger," he said simply, although his wand twirled in his fingers.

"No, you see, I've been saving them for men like you," she replied, smoothly enough to impress even Snape. Her voice lied though; she wondered if Lucius could see her heart pounding.

"What sort of man would that be, hm?" He smiled at her in a sort of mock pity. "No man wants to come near you Mudblood. In other circumstances, they'd all have a taste, but now they're afraid of getting bitten."

That's why they've avoided her. They don't know what she'd become either. And if that kept her safe, she thought it better to play along.

"I've wanted a taste, too." Hermione smiled wide enough to show teeth.

Lucius stared at her for a second, seeming unbalanced but quickly recovered.

"You might have it," he said quietly. "Put down your stones and fists; it's time for you to go."

"Go where?" she snapped. "I'm not following you anywhere."

"You can't save yourself from anything that happens tonight," Lucius smirked. "If the bite didn't infect you, you will be used and murdered. If you are infected, you have no choice but to join us, however much you may fight it. Now, come."

"No," she challenged. Lucius sighed and raised his wand, thinking the girl to be harmless without hers. Hermione let her fist fly, firing a large stone at Lucius' head with all of her strength. Apparently the push-ups had more effect that even she knew because the stone cracked against the wizard's skull and he dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

"Wow…" she breathed, staring wide-eyed at her damage. There was a bloody bruise forming on his right temple. He still seemed to be breathing though so Hermione leaped forward. First she dressed herself in his robes and then she snatched up his wand. Pulling the large hood over her head, Hermione closed the cell door behind her and locked Lucius in.

With his wand clutched in her fist, she tried to walk confidently. She met others once, but their hoods were just as black as hers and they passed without conflict. Voices echoed in the hall suddenly and she stopped short, nearly tripping over her feet. One voice was sniveling and the other… hissing and cold.

Hermione's gut wrenched and twisted. She was facing three different hallways and she couldn't figure out where the voices were coming from. Deciding that she'd have to chance it, she stepped toward the hallway to her right.

A hand clapped over her mouth and another arm wrapped around her shoulders from behind, pulling her back against a firm chest.

"That way," the man whispered behind her. Hermione craned her neck to catch a glimpse of her Professor Snape's grim face before he pushed her toward the hallway straight across from them. When she turned again, he was gone and she could hear his deep voice joining with Voldemort's.

Shaking herself off, Hermione ran down the hallway until she came to a low window. With Lucius' wand between her teeth, she pulled herself out of the window and fell into the bushes on the other side.

"Oof!" After sucking the breath back into her lungs, she untangled herself and darted for the nearby forest.

The sun was nearly down and the full moon would emerge soon.

Hermione ducked her head and ran harder than she ever had in her life, feeling the rush of new, hot blood in her veins and then knowing she was wolf in human form.

* * *

Encaged, again, and treated more like an animal than before. Then again, Hermione liked to terrify the onlookers now and then, grinning at them hungrily with sharpened canines when she actually wanted nothing more than a bag of potato chips.

After she escaped from the Malfoy Manor two months ago, she traveled toward Eastern Europe. She heard there were many more like her there because the werewolves in that area found blood best when they bit in their human form. She did find many, too. There was an entire underground army of wolves like herself. They were all bitter and still very much humane. They were all hunted. The underground army of human wolves had been discovered soon after she joined them and nearly all of them were caught.

Werewolves like to keep control of their packs, including the human wolves. Leaders also wanted human wolves for their strength, quickness, and intelligence; they made good soldiers. Voldemort, who had won the battle the night Hermione was bitten, craved these sorts of soldiers. This gave Hermione hope; it meant the good side was still fighting him and some of her friends might still be alive.

Hermione sat in the middle of her cage. It had a metal floor that wasn't more than five strides across. The metal floor was a kind of punishment. She was in bare feet so that if she misbehaved, an electrifying pulse would come up through the floor and send her body into pained shock.

The human wolf sellers made her wear very little to show off her muscle. She had on a tan shirt that covered little more than a sports bra and tan spandex shorts.

And yet, despite all of this, Hermione sat on her knees with her hands in her lap, looking very dignified in the middle of her barred cage.

The sellers had outdone themselves that day. The auction was being held outside in a large sort of coliseum. Fifty-some cages dotted the grassy floor, all of the human wolves dressed like Hermione. The potential buyers were allowed to wander among the cages before the auction began, noting down which human wolf they would bid on. Hermione went by the number twenty three.

Lord Voldemort was coming that day, which also explained the bright decorations and the stiff suits on the sellers.

Hermione was preparing herself, wondering if he would notice her or not. She realized this day could mean the end of her life. If she could avoid him, then she was sure she could escape at nighttime. Human wolves were very apt at escaping due to their skills.

"This one's beautiful, too," said a boy around fifteen years old. He had the balls to look at Hermione with a boyish lust, which almost made her snarl at him. His father appeared beside him.

"Yes, she is. I like her," he said with a thick Spanish accent. Hermione blinked at him in surprise, finding him a good leap more than handsome. Occasional, abrupt lust was something that came in the package of wolfish characteristics.

He was probably in his thirties, with dark skin and black, wavy hair. His eyes were calm, but evil lay underneath. He was experienced, too, and Hermione could tell he was thinking several dark things about her at the moment.

"Stand up," he ordered quietly. Hermione did so, a new plan creeping into her mind. If someone else wanted her, then Voldemort may never get his hands on her at all.

The raised platform of her cage placed her at the Spaniard's height.

"What can you do?" he asked.

"I can do perform those acts in your thoughts," she replied quietly, studying him. He cleared his throat, scribbled her number down, and led his son away, who looked back at her. She flashed her sharp teeth at him and he jumped.

Chuckling quietly, Hermione looked down the line of cages. People had grown quiet and cleared the way. She could see a handful of black robes in the array of colors, slowly making their way down the row.

Voldemort was the leader of the four. Severus Snape strode on his left and Lucius Malfoy to his right. Peter Pettigrew scrambled in the back, holding auction papers and scribbling down numbers.

She tried to slow her breathing and resumed her sitting position, desperately holding on to calm. Human wolves tended to panic and go into a rage when they became overwhelmed or threatened. Hermione was using all of her power to fight back the instinct.

A human wolf down the row lost it and Hermione heard him scream, throwing himself at the bars and trying to bite Voldemort. He screamed harder when the electric shock when up through the floor.

"Perhaps Pettigrew would appreciate that man," Snape said as they approached Hermione's cage.

"No, no!" Pettigrew stammered, looking back at the crazed human wolf fearfully.

"He'd eat you and do us all a favor," Lucius agreed, smirking lightheartedly. Hermione scowled. It seemed to be a day out on the town for these fellows.

Voldemort nearly kept walking, paying Hermione no attention when he saw how apathetic she appeared. Lucius stopped, though, abruptly. Hermione grimaced, trying to keep her head down.

"God…" she heard Snape breathe.

"What is it?" Voldemort asked, turning around to stare also.

Hermione was found out. She lifted her head slightly, peering through her curls at Snape, who looked horrified at his own confirmation.

"Miss Granger," Lucius hissed. Voldemort made a noise of pleasure and leaned forward. Hermione had no intention of remaining on her knees now. She stood up and walked close to the bars where they stood, her chin lifted. "How convenient that I found you," Lucius continued maliciously. "We have a score to settle."

"Are you talking about the time I left you nearly naked, bruised, and wandless in the dungeon?" Hermione said sweetly. He looked furious and Hermione grinned at him, flashing her canines. "I broke your wand, Lucius. It snapped as easily as you do."

Hermione certainly did snap his wand. She did it right before she was captured by the sellers, knowing she'd never get it back.

Lucius fumed at her, and Voldemort looked between the two of them like he wanted to grin but couldn't make his cold, thin lips do it.

"Buy her, Lucius," Pettigrew smiled and stepped close. "We'll share the bitch hound."

Lucius whirled on him, angry at Pettigrew for speaking for him, but Hermione's hand shot past her bars. She grabbed the back of Pettigrew's neck before he could dodge and pulled toward herself, cracking his forehead on the steel bars.

He wailed as the skin on his forehead split open. Hermione remained stone-faced until the floor surged and she screamed, wrapping her arms around the bars to hold herself up. When it ended, she opened her eyes and panted for breath. She saw Snape glaring at Pettigrew, who was simpering around Voldemort now. Lucius leaned close, where her face rested against a bar tiredly.

His grey eyes were storms of cruelty under his blonde hair. She could feel his breath brush against her lips.

"I'll make you mine and I'll make you sorry," he growled.

He strode away after Voldemort, who had left to view the rest of the human wolves. Hermione exchanged grim looks with Snape before he walked away, glancing over his shoulder at her.

* * *

I'm doing some editing on this story and trying to finish it. It just needs to be done! :)

And I'm going to forewarn you: there will be smut (much, much later) and there will be bloody, squeamish scenes. She's half werewolf - it happens. Also, the relationship is between Hermione and Lucius (my first with him, actually).

Yeah, I know nothing happened to Bill when he was bitten in the 6th book, but I couldn't settle with that. Let's just pretend it went differently... for kicks and giggles.

Let me know what you think of the idea! Thanks!

Love!

Soline


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Two**

The buyers cleared out of the field and trickled into their seats. A small, round stage was magicked into the middle of the field and they began the auction.

Hermione had finally managed to stop shaking after the electric shock and stared toward the stage, waiting for her number to be called. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were in an honored section of the seats, in the very front. Her Spaniard man sat far to their right, still watching her. His boy's face seemed rather flushed due to the small amount of clothing on the human wolves.

She was taken to wait behind the stage when they reached number twenty. Voldemort had bought five already; no one wanted to challenge him. The Spaniard bought one woman, which worried Hermione. Pettigrew tried for one but faltered quickly.

She was motioned onto the stage and ascended slowly. There were four wizards stationed on the edges of the circular platform, pointing their wands at her as a precaution. The auctioneer began calling out numbers. The Spaniard's wand sparks shot up, immediately followed by Lucius'.

Hermione watched intently, breathlessly, and hoped that the Spaniard was filthy rich.

And he was but he did not have the determination for revenge that Lucius had. Once the price reached thirty thousand in gold, the Spaniard shook his head and lowered his wand.

She was sold and numb. The cage was almost welcoming when she returned to it. Lucius would be arriving after the auction was completed to take her away with him, and Hermione was terrified.

He came with a smirk so triumphant that Hermione wanted to rip his lips off. As he opened the cage door, he beckoned to her and said, "Come." She stepped past him, her toes curling in the grass as she eyed him.

He reached into his pocket and produced a simple circle of braided twine. Hermione fought the urge to cringe as he slipped it over her head and it magically adjusted in size to her neck.

"What is this?" she growled.

"It's like your cage floor. Misbehave, Miss Granger, and prepare for the electric shock you're so fond of," he said, smiling at the innocent-looking necklace. "They were selling them at the stands and I thought it may be necessary for you."

Hermione looked away from his cold eyes and watched the other human wolves being collected. Some were too frightened to come out of their cages and were being shocked out. She sighed.

"Follow me," he said. As she trailed after him, she tried to remove the necklace and found it futile. The others were waiting for them. Voldemort was overseeing the transportation of his new soldiers back to Great Britain and threatening terrible things if any of them escaped. Hermione found herself face to face with Pettigrew.

"I'm going to rip you apart, Mudblood!" he said, spit flying from his mouth. Hermione wiped her face and made a small noise of disgust.

"Unpleasant," Hermione muttered, wiping her hands on her shorts as Pettigrew continued to rave. Lucius frowned at Pettigrew, and Hermione wondered if he was going to curse the rat.

"Look at what you did to me!" he continued, pointing at his gashed forehead. Hermione did look, and she saw, or smelled rather, the blood seeping from it.

Human wolves had a keen enjoyment of the taste of blood. They're not like vampires; they certainly do not need blood to survive. They don't even have to eat meat, although a vegetarian wolf makes for a very unhealthy wolf. Some human wolves like blood more than others and some only feel the urge occasionally. All human wolves, however, crave the taste.

Hermione's breath quickened and her mouth felt wetter. Her thighs tightened right before she pounced, shoving Pettigrew into the dirt hard. A fresh drop of blood trickled down his temple and Hermione licked it up very delicately with one swipe of her tongue.

"Off!" Lucius snapped, hauling Hermione to her feet by her arm. She swung at him in a blind panic, her heart pumping wolf blood now, and they both fell on the ground. The electric shock hit her again through the necklace, although she was glad to feel it was less intense than the cage. She couldn't help writhing in Lucius' lap, her white fists clutching his collar, as the pain hit her.

"Stop!" she finally forced out as the shock ended. "I couldn't help it!"

Lucius glared at staring passersby, who quickly looked away when they realized he was one of Voldemort's men. Then he watched the commotion between human and wolf in her eye. Her red tongue slowly gathered a smear of blood on her lower lip. It did nothing to quell his own animalistic urges that her struggling had induced.

"Control it," he snapped, pushing her off of him before rising to his feet. She got up, too, eyeing Lucius with malice.

"Return to your homes," Voldemort said as he returned. "I will call again soon."

He Apparated away and was followed by Pettigrew, who was unmistakably shaken.

Hermione almost shrieked when Snape grabbed her roughly.

"She doesn't know how to control it, Lucius," he hissed. "We should teach her."

Then, with one arm painfully tight around her shoulders, he pulled her against him and bit very lightly on her neck, as if mocking her. Lucius laughed.

"I'm sorry to find you here, Miss Granger," he breathed. She could barely hear him and was positive that Lucius couldn't. "Behave with Lucius to avoid death but don't lose hope. The Light is fighting from the darkness."

She gasped and Snape bit her shoulder lightly to make reason for it.

He pushed her away again and the two Death Eaters shared grins.

"Look at how she shakes," Lucius said.

"Like a virgin," Snape replied. "It seems I frightened the she-wolf."

"Hm," Lucius paused, eyeing Hermione with a new interest now. She bared her sharp teeth at him, which amused him more. "Come here."

She unwillingly went to him, letting him grasp her tightly, and watched Snape with imploring eyes before they Apparated.

They appeared again in the entrance hall of the Malfoy Manor. Hermione recognized the smell of the place right away, having been held captive there months before. She looked around in short-lived awe. It was probably the most beautiful house she had ever been in. Even the domed ceiling was painted.

As she looked up to admire it, Lucius' hand gripped her throat.

Hermione knew more about her body than he did. She stiffened her muscles so it didn't hurt, but he thought it did. Retaliating would bring on punishment, but she could avoid the pain of his abuse.

"I meant what I said," he threatened. "You will pay."

"I don't doubt you," she replied easily.

"You think I'm so predictable?" he asked, his grip tightening. Hermione could still only feel a small pinch.

"When it comes to your anger, yes."

"Tell me then. What will I do with you? There are so many options."

"You'd probably enjoy beating on me most, I think," Hermione said slowly, her eyes wary. He gritted his teeth.

"You're not feeling pain from this at all." It wasn't a question, and Hermione could even see the veins bulging on his forearm.

"It's nearing full moon," Hermione replied listlessly. It was certainly her least favorite time of the month. She was stronger and faster then. She also craved blood the most then and it made her sick.

"I could use curses," he said, his grip still not faltering. Hermione began to feel a little sore.

"Yes, you could." She thought back to Snape's words. Did it mean that Harry was still alive? And what about Ron? She had always thought she'd marry Ron. Would he still want her when she was cursed like this? She hadn't been able to find anyone when she escaped from the Malfoy Manor and thought them all to be dead. Now Snape had given her hope.

"Meanwhile, where shall I put you?" he asked. He released his grip from her slowly collapsing airway, but Hermione only met his gaze squarely, not flinching at all.

"In another cage, I presume," Hermione offered dryly.

"We have plenty of those, if you prefer," Lucius replied, glaring sideways at her. Hermione remained silent. She truly was tired of bars.

* * *

There was just no way to force or squirm her way out of the room.

Hermione plopped down on her bed to think about it, looking around furtively. The bed was small, equipped with only a sheet, a blanket and a pillow. The rough, stone floor remained uncovered by even rugs and her feet were already beginning to feel sore. The bathroom to the right didn't have a door, but all the bare essentials were inside: a tub, a sink, and a toilet.

She knew right away why Lucius had placed her here. Even though it was slightly more civilized than he probably thought she deserved, he also realized this room was more secure than the dungeon cell. With a house elf posted outside the door, ready to pop away and warn Lucius at any strange sound or escape, Hermione was at a loss.

It also got very cold. So that night, with nothing to wear but what she had on from the auction, Hermione bundled herself up in the blanket and shivered.

When she woke the next morning, she was still cold and her head was completely covered. The coldness was not what woke her though. Hermione's senses prickled and she jerked the blanket down off her eyes.

Lucius Malfoy was standing over her, wand in hand, and looking very thoughtful.

"Cold?" he asked, although she knew he didn't care for an answer. He sat on the bed next to her, and Hermione hurriedly scooted away from him, sitting up now. "I thought about my revenge."

He looked at her as if he expected her to speak and then continued at her silence.

"You're going to help me serve the Dark Lord."

"I certainly will not," Hermione snarled immediately.

"You have no choice," he said darkly. Hermione paled. "I could use your strength and quickness when I go on missions."

"I will not kill people for you," she said.

"Perhaps you will," he sneered. Hermione shook her head fiercely and glared in the opposite direction. It disturbed her that he wasn't leaving now but continued to sit beside her.

"I'm surprised at you, Lucius," she spat vehemently, looking at him again. "Using your revenge to benefit Voldemort. I thought you'd be selfish and keep my pain to yourself."

He smiled at her.

"There's more to my revenge, Miss Granger," he said silkily.

Lucius moved forward and slid his hand onto the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. Hermione fought the urge to hurt him, knowing she'd be punished.

"I can make you suffer," he whispered, his lips nearly touching hers, "in the way which gives me the most pleasure."

His hand tightened into a fist in her curls, pulling her head upwards and making her meet his lips. Hermione released a cry into his mouth, fighting the instinctual lust. His lips were firm and almost violent by themselves. His teeth nipped down on her bottom lip and his tongue swiped against hers with one firm, long stroke.

Hermione was one second away from using all of her strength to beat Lucius to a bloody pulp, collar or no collar, but he pulled away. His free hand pulled the blanket away from her shoulders, letting it fall around her waist. Hermione grimaced at the cold air. Once his fingers touched her ribs, she realized what he was about to do.

She snarled with an amazing likeness of a wolf and bared her canines. She saw his eyes widen for a second before she punched Lucius in the chest. He flew off the bed and skidded across the stone, his torso heaving for breath. While he sucked air back into his lungs, Hermione suffered the electricity of the necklace. She was, however, standing defensively on the bed before he recovered. It seemed she could withstand pain better when it was close to full moon.

"_Don't touch me_," she snarled. He got to his feet, his wand pointed at her now. He smirked at her.

"After full moon, Miss Granger, your strength will return to normal," he said, reaching for the door. "I will have you then."

* * *

I love it when Hermione fights back and wins. ;)

Love!

Soline


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Three**

It was the day of the full moon. Hermione hadn't given much thought to what Lucius would do to her afterwards; she was too frightened and there was nothing she could think of to do about it.

Hermione had just finished washing her clothes, the shorts and small shirt, and hung them up to dry. The bed sheet was wrapped tightly around her in a toga style. She was in the process of finishing off what the house elf brought her for lunch when the disturbance came.

A new person had entered the castle; she could tell because this wasn't just _any_ person. She could smell a werewolf, not a human wolf, and a very strong one at that. There was something very alluring about this werewolf.

She jumped in alarm when angry voices rang out, echoing down the hallways. They were headed in her direction and Hermione nearly panicked. She had barely gotten to her feet when the door burst open.

"Fenrir!" Hermione gasped, frozen where she stood.

He looked furiously lethal. His robes were torn and bloodied, although Hermione was sure it was his regular attire. His long grey and brown hair was messy, like he'd run to the Malfoy Manor. His heavy eyebrows and thick cheekbones wrinkled as he studied her intently. Hermione's mind and body was in shock. The last time she had seen the werewolf, he had attacked her.

Lucius suddenly appeared behind him, his wand pointed at the werewolf.

"Greyback, I paid for her!" Lucius snapped. "You cannot take her. The Dark Lord knows what she's worth to me!"

Hermione didn't even see Fenrir cross the room. She didn't think Lucius did either, according to his flustered expression, but Fenrir was suddenly in front of her. His rough hands wrapped around her small wrists, bringing them up for him to see.

"He hasn't bled you?" he asked roughly. Hermione shook under the touch and harsh voice of the stronger werewolf.

Finding her throat dry, Hermione only shook her head.

"People will bleed werewolves to weaken them at the time of full moon," Fenrir replied to her confusion. Hermione glanced over Fenrir's shoulder at Lucius, who was forcing calm and crossing his arms to let Fenrir conclude his inspection.

She jumped when he pushed her curls back and examined her face.

"You should fear me," he said in response, "but I will not hurt you, cub."

He circled around her, and Hermione found herself facing Lucius. Fenrir stopped behind her, touched her head gently to tilt it to the side, and laid his fingers over a spot on her skin.

"She is mine, Lucius," he said harshly again. "This is _my_ mark on her shoulder! She should be in _my_ pack!"

Hermione knew he was referring to the scar on her shoulder from the time Fenrir bit her.

"I'll leave my own mark soon, Greyback," Lucius said humorlessly. The werewolf growled and sniffed at Hermione.

"You haven't had her yet," he grinned. "You were too weak to fight her."

Lucius' expression darkened dangerously, but Fenrir only said, "Get rid of that degrading garment."

"What?" Hermione gasped. "Now?"

"Yes, now," he said through gritted teeth. His fingers tightened on her shoulder. She pursed her lips and seethed at the sudden spark in Lucius' eye.

Hermione turned away from him, choosing to face Fenrir instead. Although he was a werewolf, she simply knew she could trust him implicitly. She stared at a single bloody spot on his robes while numbly untying the bed sheet. It fell in a circle around her feet.

Her gaze moved upward to Fenrir, who wasn't looking at her but watched Lucius over her head with a cruel smile.

"Turn to face him," he said softly.

"No," Hermione replied instantly. She crossed her arms over her breasts and moved into Fenrir's chest. He chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"You see, Lucius?" he said. "She comes to me. She obeys me until I tell her to act for you. She will never really be yours, no matter how violently you break her. She'll run back to me."

Hermione enjoyed the darkness of Fenrir's embrace. She could feel and smell the protective feelings on him. It felt incredible to be held for the first time in months. She rested her forehead on his collarbone, sighing deeply.

He removed one arm from her and produced his wand. With one flick, she was wearing warm, black robes.

"I want to go with you," Hermione said suddenly and surprised even herself.

"If the Dark Lord gave you to Lucius, then that's how it will be," Fenrir growled. He moved away from Hermione and headed for the door. "I will return to check on her," he said directly to Lucius, whose expression darkened.

Once the werewolf was gone, Hermione sat on the bed and stared at her feet. He had thought to give her shoes, too, to protect her feet from the stone floor.

She barely understood her connection to Fenrir. She felt as strongly toward him as she had toward Harry or Ron. She could only guess it was because he had made her a wolf. Fenrir was her creator, in a way. Also, he wanted to protect her from Lucius.

Hermione looked up darkly, remembering that Lucius hadn't left yet. He closed the door and simply stood there, twirling his wand. A curtain of blond hair shadowed his thoughtful eyes and he stared until she became uncomfortable.

"Are you going to do as he said?" she asked, wanting to break the silence.

"What is that, Miss Granger?" he replied calmly, as if Fenrir had never been there at all.

"To… violently… break me," Hermione said, nearly blushing.

"You are so inexperienced," he smiled mockingly, "that everything may be violent to you. Good night."

* * *

Hermione grabbed hold of her dresser and flung it across the room, watching it smash against the wall. Nighttime had come; she could feel it even without a window. Hermione was transforming.

Human wolves, during the full moon, don't change much physically. Her hair looked a little longer and wilder, and her teeth felt sharper, but the changes were largely mental.

She sat on the floor at the foot of her bed and dropped her face into her hands. She could usually keep a slippery hold on herself but the room was driving her crazy. Hermione didn't like the feeling of being caged. She had to get out and run. She had to feel free and untamed.

Lucius hadn't come back since the day before, when Fenrir had come rushing in to find her. Hermione figured he was scared of her at this time. Although, she also wondered why he hadn't bled her like Fenrir said. If he wanted her to be weak and submissive, why hadn't he cut her wrists?

Hot, pumping wolf blood surged through Hermione's veins in one swift second. It meant that it was midnight, the very peak and climax of nighttime. With little human reasoning left in her essence, Hermione broke. She pounded a fist into the floor, leaving a large crack in the stone, and screamed: a ragged shriek combining with the lonely howl of a wolf that echoed throughout the entire manor.

Feeling the constricting walls around her, she bolted for the door and positively smashed through it, both wood and wards. Hermione was vaguely aware that she was running through the hallways. Her wolfish senses were leading her outside. She could feel the bothersome tingle of the collar around her neck but was strong enough to disregard it.

And in seconds, the she-wolf burst into the night, just a blur disappearing into the darkness.

* * *

The morning was blinding and blissful all at once. Hermione smiled weakly and rolled onto her back, looking up at the sun affectionately. She could always depend on it to treat her more kindly than the night.

Hermione eventually sat up and blinked at her surroundings. She was in a completely open field that sloped gently downwards into trees all around. A doe lay dead nearby, and Hermione quickly looked away from her handiwork. She guessed it was about noon, according to the sun's point in the sky, and then suddenly wondered where she could be. The Malfoy Manor was nowhere in sight. Hermione numbly touched her neck and realized that she must have torn the collar off the night before.

"Ha!" she laughed right out loud, crawling to her feet. She found a stream hidden by the trees and stripped to her underclothes to wash her robes of blood. While the garments dried on a tree branch, Hermione dove under the morning-chilled water to rinse the blood off her skin and hair.

She had gotten used to the blood of animals; it didn't sicken her stomach as much as before. Human blood did, though.

Hermione welcomed the freedom of the wilderness with great relief and satisfaction. She lounged beside the stream for hours in her smallclothes, simply soaking in the warmth of the sun. After the experience of living with Lucius (for the second time) and running continually for her life, Hermione stopped fearing. She wanted to stop fearing.

Comfort and exhaustion had lulled her to sleep on her bed of moss. Hermione was curled on her side, the sunlight glowing on her hair and bare skin. She had neatly placed her shoes and socks nearby and the robes were now crisp. The she-wolf rolled onto her stomach on the bed nature had provided for her and whimpered in content, as she did sometimes when she forgot herself.

A callused hand rested on the small of her curved back. Hermione reacted very slowly, still sluggish and fatigued. She merely opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at Fenrir Greyback, wishing desperately that the wolf was a hallucination. He, however, didn't disappear despite her incredulous stare.

Fenrir still had blood caked on him from the night before, but he did not look as tired as she felt. In fact, he looked slightly ashamed.

"Fenrir," Hermione sighed softly, closing her eyes again and refused to part herself from the peaceful sanctity of her bed. "Let me stay."

"I have, cub," he said lowly. "I found you this morning; you are not as far from the manor as you think."

Hermione felt strangely safer knowing that Fenrir had watched over her all day while she dozed in the sun.

"You're going to take me back… aren't you?" she asked quietly, tears threatening behind her lashes. The hand warming the skin of her back tensed and relaxed again.

"I have no choice. If I did, I'd have you in my pack where you belong," he said, a hint of snarling behind his words. At her silence, he continued and said, "The Dark Lord demands it of me, on behalf of his beloved lapdog."

Hermione smiled at the insulting mention of Lucius.

"I can't win against you," she said after a somber pause. "Just… for a little while… stay with me."

Fenrir didn't hesitate to give her more time before going back to the Malfoy Manor. He lay down beside her, her on her stomach and he on his back, his hands tucked under his head. The two wolves remained that way until chilliness crept into the air. When Fenrir saw goose bumps rise on Hermione's flesh, he rose and retrieved her robes from the tree.

"It's time, cub," he said, offering her the clothing. Hermione very slowly slipped her robes over her head, her brows knitted together.

"Is he mad?" she asked, tugging the sleeves over her arms.

"He wasted no time in telling me to track you, although I roused more anger toward myself by refusing to let him come also," Fenrir said.

"Poor spoilt little man," Hermione teased and finally nodded that she was ready. Fenrir grabbed her elbow tightly and turned on the spot.

* * *

Fenrir's our good guy... in a roundabout way. The next chapter is rather short, but Hermione and Lucius share a bed. ;)

Review please!

Love!

Soline


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Four**

The pair of wolves appeared again in the lobby of the Malfoy Manor. Lucius was already there, having been alerted that someone was Apparating into his manor where he had temporarily opened a spot for Fenrir to bring back Hermione.

His expression was utterly unreadable, but Hermione sensed danger and moved closer to Fenrir. The mossy bed beside the stream suddenly seemed like a heaven she'd never touch again.

"I don't believe tracking the she-wolf took the entire day, Greyback," Lucius said coldly. "Where has she been?"

Without giving either a chance to respond, Lucius dove into Hermione's mind and forced the information roughly into his sight. Hermione saw images of herself waking in the field, swimming languidly, and sleeping in that beauty of nature.

Lucius pulled away and she winced; her head hurt.

"That was unnecessary," Fenrir growled viciously, moving forward and baring his teeth.

"Get out," Lucius snapped, meeting the hard gaze of the werewolf levelly. Hermione made no move to influence Fenrir, as it would be impertinent, but only looked up at him.

"I will see you next month. We'll run together," Fenrir said roughly, speaking to Hermione but glaring at Lucius. Then he was gone, having Apparated back to his pack.

She once again looked up at the painted dome ceiling, knowing Lucius was considering what to do with her. Her mouth suddenly dried as she studied the painting intently: it was a mass of blood, darkness, and bodies.

"Miss Granger," he began. Finding the painting repulsive, she dropped her gaze to his. "I realize you could not control your urge to run, just as you can not resist desiring blood."

"No, I cannot," she replied.

"Will you change again tonight?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Human wolves change only on the first night of full moon every month. There is not enough wolf blood in us to sustain a change each night."

"Mm," he murmured thoughtfully and finally started toward her slowly. Hermione held her breath. "I see you broke your collar. That won't be a problem for some time. If I understand correctly, your power has become almost ordinary until it nears the next full moon."

Hermione wet her lips.

"Are you going to punish me?" she asked. He only smirked at her.

"You need a bed to sleep in. As your room has been destroyed," he said pointedly, "I'll escort you to another."

He walked away so quickly that Hermione had to jump into action to keep up with him. He led her to the more elaborate and carpeted west wing. Despite the fact that she had slept all day, the room he introduced her to had an extremely inviting bed. It was typical for her to sleep for even days after a violent full moon experience.

While Hermione studied the room, it suddenly struck her to wonder why Lucius would bring her to such a rich bedroom. If she guessed correctly, the door to the right led to a large bathroom.

Lucius shut the double doors behind him and locked them magically.

"What?" Hermione breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. The Death Eater watched her expression fall into terror, enjoying her fear with a smile.

"Come to bed, Miss Granger," he smirked. While she stammered at him, Lucius merely glanced at her and proceeded to discard his clothing. When he stood only in his shorts, not at all modest, Hermione looked away. His nakedness only achieved making him more intimidating, especially at a time when she couldn't defend herself well.

"I want my own room," she pronounced.

"You had that, and you ruined it," he replied. "Come."

He didn't approach her but slipped into the bed with a look of expectation.

"I'll sleep on the floor, thanks," she snapped.

"No," he simply demanded. "Come here. Now, or I will force you."

He reached for his wand, but Hermione made a small noise of discontent. With his hand still poised for the wand, Hermione only toed off her shoes before lying on top of the blankets.

"Fully dressed still?" he smirked, seeming amused with her antics. He propped himself onto his elbow and pushed his blonde hair over his shoulder. Hermione nodded stiffly.

With his gaze locked on her expressions, Lucius trailed a hand over her waist, testing her limits. When he lowered his face closer to hers, she lashed out. Lucius took a smarting blow to his jaw before he forced her fists back onto the bed and stilled her legs with one of his. She was still strong but not stronger than him at the moment.

"Lucius, you bastard!" she spat, now trying to slam her forehead against his nose.

"Shh…" he only said. Hermione certainly was not going to be soothed by his cooing and she promptly lunged upward again. "Imperio!" he pronounced and she felt herself fall into his grasp.

_No, beat it! Beat him!_

"You will lay still, Miss Granger, and obey me," he said quietly, sitting up to watch her relax. She wished desperately that she still had some of her wolf strength as she felt her mind bow down to him. She could only stare as his hands ran down her legs and removed her socks one by one. Then, as his hands trailed upward again, he tugged the robes up her body until they were pulled over her head gently.

Tears dampened the pillow under her, and Lucius smiled so softly that it was cruel.

"Revenge," he said quietly and watched her tears, "has never been sweeter."

Hermione hated him with every fiber. She wished, by some miracle, that he would drop dead that very instant, but he didn't. Instead, those cool grey eyes swept down her body and appreciated it. He slipped her bra straps off her shoulders.

_Oh, please…_

Lucius dropped a kiss at the top of her breast.

_Please don't let it happen._

The hot skin of his chest brushed her arm. His hand encompassed the back of her neck as he leaned down to kiss her. Hermione was momentarily surprised at his gentleness and then realized that it was part of his revenge; he wanted her to enjoy it.

"Don't," she managed to breathe against his lips and his curse. He only covered her mouth with his own, parting Hermione's lips to run his tongue across the top of her teeth. He became firmer with his touch, pushing deeper against her with his kiss. His torso rested against hers, with only the bra separating her breasts from his skin.

"Do you want me? Answer me," he said silkily, tangling his fingers in her hair and tugging.

"I hate you," she said listlessly under the influence of the Imperius curse.

"Yes, I know," he smiled. "That's not what I asked. I mean, do you desire me? Are you growing wet at my touch? Do you want to feel me inside of you, touching you deeper than any man has before?"

Hermione stared fixedly at the bed canopy and tried even harder to deflect the curse. She didn't want to answer him; she didn't want to give him permission to continue having his way with her. She knew that her body was screaming "yes" and couldn't let him have the satisfaction.

"Get off," Hermione said in a suddenly deeper, controlled voice and struggled against his grip.

"Ah," he said. "You broke the curse. Is it because you didn't want me to hear your response? No matter, your answer is clear."

He flicked his wand and Hermione's hands were tied to the headboard tightly. Lucius laid his wand on a bedside table and settled under the blankets again. Hermione watched him warily and tested her restraints. Was he going to leave her alone or did he tie her up so she couldn't fight?

"You will come to me on your own accord," the Death Eater said huskily, pulling the blankets over her body until she was properly covered.

"Never," Hermione returned. "You're a disgusting, revolting excuse of a man." Lucius looked at her with hard eyes and let his hands slide out of sight. Hermione gasped when his fingers found her breast, slipping under the bra to manipulate the flesh there. She bit her lip and blushed, looking away from his unforgiving eyes.

"You will," he growled. "You will want me and it'll kill you. You'll never forgive yourself."

He pinched her lightly so that she nearly whimpered. Then he withdrew his hand and rolled over, leaving Hermione to stare at his back in quiet fear.

* * *

Not a very nice Death Eater.

Well, I know this chapter was short, but I'll put up another before the week is out since I won't be able to post next week. You'll get chapter 5 before Saturday! :) Review please!

Next chapter: Lucius takes Hermione on a mission, as promised, and makes a bigger ass out of himself. Fenrir comes into the picture once more and gives Hermione some playtime.

Love!

Soline


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Five**

Hermione spent the week sleeping, daydreaming, and eating in turn. The night of the full moon had drained all of her strength and she was more than content to spend time recovering. Lucius had released her bindings to the bed the next morning, telling her that he had already secured the room and there would be no escaping. He was right, too, as she explored the room as soon as he left and found no way to get out.

The Death Eater hadn't touched her since the night she returned with Fenrir, even though he continued to sleep beside her, although she hadn't forgotten what his hands felt like. She hated him more than anything, even maybe Voldemort, and yet she was grudgingly curious about Lucius' hands. No one had touched her like that before.

The door opened and Hermione whirled around to face her visitor. She had just emerged freshly bathed and clothed from the bathroom, still drying her hair in a towel.

"Put your shoes on and follow me," Lucius said smoothly, waiting in the doorway for her. Hermione pursed her lips and did as she was told. She knew her strength hadn't recovered enough for her to fight him yet.

"Where are we going?" she asked, following him down the hallway.

"As I said before, you're going to help me. This is really very simple," he replied. When they reached the lobby, Lucius grabbed her and turned.

They Apparated to a wooded, bleak place. Hermione supposed they had gone to another country, because the air smelled very different. She sniffed the air more delicately, unaware of Lucius' eyes on her.

"There are my kind nearby," she whispered. He smiled.

"Yes," he said and pointed ahead. "They're somewhere in that vicinity."

"What are you asking of me?" she hissed, stepping back quickly. She had already surmised exactly what he was using her for, and she wouldn't stand for it. The thought of turning human wolves into captives turned her stomach. Lucius' hand darted out and tore her robes so that her shoulder was bare. She flinched as he pointed his wand at her, procuring fake blood to trickle down her face.

"Run," he said. "Tell them you're being chased by sellers. They'll follow after you."

"No! You're going to capture them if I bring them out of hiding!" Hermione yelled.

"You'll do as I say!"

"Fuck you, Lucius!"

Lucius attacked her, wrestling her to the ground while forcing his hips between her thighs. His hand wrapped around her throat tightly.

"I'm about to draw real blood, girl," Lucius hissed, pushing his hips against her pointedly. "If you don't run, you _will_ fuck me. Right now!"

Hermione burst forth a strangled sob and panicked under his heavy body.

"Run," he snarled, his grip loosening. "Run toward them or I'll have you."

She squirmed away from him, her mind red with warning at the animal in Lucius' eyes. If she ran, she'd endanger the other human wolves. If she disobeyed…

He lunged toward her again and Hermione threw herself out of his reach until she was running as fast as her feet could carry her. She soon vaguely sensed the other human wolves near her and with one weak, unwilling effort she cried, "Sellers!"

She heard them jumping out behind her, running without hesitation toward a safer plain. There were many; at least twenty others were behind her, and still she ran the fastest. She didn't want to look at them, to see the ones she doomed.

A mile later, black figures began appearing around her, their wands slashing through the air. Hermione continued to run.

"Stop her!" she heard Lucius shout, which only made her move faster. Someone tackled her to the ground, both of them skidding through the dirt. While she struggled in the Death Eater's arms, she looked up to see the human wolves being captured. Some went quietly while others were being subjected to torture that would break their spirit. Voldemort stood nearby, his arms crossed and eyes gleaming.

A very young human wolf, a boy no older than fifteen, locked gazes with Hermione. His eyes laid so much blame on her that she started crying violently.

"Granger," the Death Eater said through his mask, his arms constricting around her.

She recognized it to be Snape and immediately welcomed the embrace, leaning into his chest and sobbing.

"You nearly failed, Lucius," Voldemort said as the blonde-haired man stalked up to them.

"Forgive me, Milord," he replied, touching his forehead briefly. Voldemort nodded him away, smirking again toward his new captives as other Death Eaters rounded them up.

"Have strength," Snape whispered. "He's coming for you."

Snape pulled her to her feet and pushed his mask away from his face, sneering at Lucius.

"If you can't control her, Lucius, perhaps you should give her to someone who can," Snape announced.

"You know I don't mind sharing with you, Severus, but I will not be giving this one away."

"Is that so? I know you like yours to obey, and she doesn't seem to do so very well."

Lucius smirked, glancing at Hermione with cold eyes. She pressed back into Snape.

"Yes, I had to give her quite the fright to make her run," he said, looking amused by all that had just occurred.

"You're an animal!" Hermione hissed, wiping her cheeks furiously with her sleeve. He stepped close very quickly, his front pressing ever so slightly against her so that she was trapped between the two Death Eaters. Lucius and Snape exchanged grins over her head.

"I can be," he said slowly with a cruel smile at her. "This ambush was nothing. If you can't learn to obey, future missions will be much harder. Next time… I won't give you a chance to run."

Hermione stumbled away from Snape and Lucius, unconsciously baring her canines at the latter. They turned their attentions away from her as Voldemort began speaking again, hinting to his very large army of human wolves. Then she heard Voldemort say something that made her blanch.

"These human wolves should be stored with the rest. Deliver them to the station. Start the transfusions…"

Soon Lucius had Apparated with her back to the manor, where she immediately jerked away from him.

"Transfusion?" she breathed, staring at him intently. "What does he mean?"

Lucius only glanced at her before motioning for her to follow him back to the bedroom.

"Answer me!" Hermione said, running to his side. "What's he doing to the human wolves?"

"Quiet, Mudblood!" Lucius snapped. "You are lowly; those things are none of your business! You'd be wise to keep that ever-flapping hole in your face shut."

"He's changing us, isn't he?" she continued, staring at the floor in concentration now. They reached the bedroom but she continued to brainstorm. "Putting something into our veins… A potion, perhaps?"

Lucius grabbed her up, pressing his lips against hers hard. She made a noise of disgust when he pulled away.

"If you continue speaking like that, you'll be lucky to only receive the Cruciatus curse," he snarled.

"Who's he fighting?" she asked breathlessly. "Is he still fighting us? Is it Harry? Are the others alive?"

"Quiet!"

"Let me go," she said firmly. "Let me go back to them. You've had your revenge: I'll never forget the scars you've left; those wolves are forever under _his_ control now. I'll always be known as a traitor among them."

"Ah, Miss Granger," Lucius said, smiling now, "I haven't gotten the full prize yet, remember?"

"As long as I'm captive, you'll never have it. I'll never come to you like you said I would," she said flatly. "You'd have to force me… and that just wouldn't be the same, would it?"

She and Lucius gazed at each other. His expressions changed rapidly from anger to defiance and finally to contemplation.

"Good day, Miss Granger," he said, smiling faintly. She was quick to step out of his way as he left, just in case his smile deceived cruel intent.

Lucius did not come back to sleep in her bed with her. She had thought it was his bedroom but remembered that the man had a wife. He must have a main bedroom for he and Narcissa, and other bedrooms were to entertain his… guests.

House elves were her only visitors, bringing her food and new clothing. She had actually managed to make somewhat of a friend out of Bunny, a female elf with a very cute button nose, and convinced her to supply Muggle clothes through trickery.

"If Master said to supply me clothes, and I'm Muggle-born, wouldn't it make sense to bring me Muggle clothing?"

Hermione felt a little bad about the deception, but she was more relieved to have a nice pair of jeans and a warm jumper. Besides, Lucius hadn't visited her for weeks to rectify what he would have called "filthy Mudblood attire."

One night, Hermione watched out the window as dozens of other wizards and witches began Apparating onto Lucius' doorstep. They were all dressed fantastically. The Dark Lord himself made a fashionably late appearance, and by that time Hermione could hear orchestral music ringing on the floor below. She guessed the Death Eaters were having a fancy party, which amused her in a sardonic way.

She remained at the window, staring at the snowflakes that had begun falling from the sky. When the doors creaked open, Hermione was quick to jump up. With so many Death Eaters in the manor, she had to be vigilant.

"Want to crash the party?" Fenrir asked, a wolfish grin on his face. Hermione gulped. She thought that Fenrir hadn't come to see her lately, thought he was furious with her, because she was the reason the human wolves were captured.

"Fenrir," she began carefully, "those other human wolves… I didn't want to betray them. Lucius—"

"Malfoy is an ass and you did what you were forced to," he said roughly. Then, softening his face again, motioned for her to follow.

"I'm underdressed," she laughed but took several steps toward him nonetheless. He seemed as if he fought the urge to growl at her, but flicked his wand anyway. Hermione smiled down at the long-sleeved, ankle length dress that suddenly appeared on her.

"White? Really?" she grinned.

"Just making a point," he snickered. Hermione laughed out loud and walked with the werewolf. The color white did seem appropriate – Malfoy had failed to make her lust for him yet.

* * *

Here's the chapter for next week since I won't be able to update then. Yes, Lucius is an ass. Just keeping it somewhat realistic; he gets better.

Next chapter: Hermione visits some old friends...

Love!

Soline


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Six**

People began glaring or peering at the pair curiously as soon as they entered the ballroom. Hermione pushed her chin into the air and stared back at them. The middle of the room was for dancing. On the far end, a platform seated Voldemort. Several seats were placed on either side of him and in them were his most trusted followers. Lucius was among them with his wife standing stone-faced behind him.

Lucius saw her come in on Fenrir's arm, and Hermione could see his face darken from across the vast ballroom.

"He's angry," she breathed.

"Mm," Fenrir grinned.

"Is there something we can do?" Hermione asked, feeling the uncomfortable weight of Lucius' stare. "Dancing?"

"I do not dance," he said gruffly, casting a glance toward the floor of gliding people. "Although you are more than welcome to find your own partner."

"They're Death Eaters," Hermione said dismissively.

"So am I."

"Yes, but… you're different."

Fenrir studied her quickly before scanning the room. Then he raised his hand and pointed out several men.

"That one's not bad; just joined the ranks and has not the stomach for torture. Although, he _does_ have a strange fetish for feet. That man over there is an infamous playboy, if you prefer, and may have you licking his thighs within moments… It's happened – I've seen it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and stifled a giggle.

"That burly fool," Fenrir continued, pointing again, "cried over killing a child last week. The Dark Lord very nearly took his eyes out for it. And _that_ one—"

"Snape," Hermione interjected.

"Yes," Fenrir said slowly, narrowing his eyes at her. "I forgot he was your professor at school… He's a fair dancer and not likely to harm you. There are your choices, and I don't recommend trying the others."

Hermione eyed each one of them. She nearly went to Snape first before thinking sensibly. It may look suspicious if she kept ending up in Snape's arms and the man was in no position to have that set against him.

So she set course instead toward the man who had cried over killing the child. He was speaking to several others rather confidently now, but they eyed him like predators who found weak prey. His shoulders were wide and he was likely a whole head taller than her; he reminded her of Viktor Krum. His hairline was only just beginning to recede but he still had dark locks that matched his shadow.

She stopped several feet away and kept her eyes solely on him. Eventually he noticed her over his shoulder, his eyes drawing over her quickly. He excused himself from the other men.

"Hello," he said, approaching her slowly. Hermione smiled and pushed her curls out of her face nervously.

"Hi," she replied.

"Are you staring for any particular reason?" he asked, not unkindly. At first Hermione thought he was being arrogant and then she realized he was flirting with her.

"I was wondering of you were any kind of a good dancer," she said. He laughed easily.

"What of your werewolf escort?" he asked, looking over her shoulder.

"He sent me to find out."

Only then did the new man hold her hand and take her onto the dance floor.

"Name's Silas," he said, placing his hand on her waist.

"Hermione Granger," she replied. His hands jerked a little. She looked up into his stunned face and grinned with sharp teeth. "Yes, Harry's Hermione."

"Ah…" he said slowly, his eyes taking her in.

"Lucius bought me at an auction," she continued.

"Lucius Malfoy? Auction?"

"Human wolf auction."

His eyebrows rose and he stopped dancing just to laugh. Hermione couldn't help grinning as the man straightened again and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Full of surprises, aren't you, Hermione?"

Hermione adored the man immediately, despite the fact that he was a Death Eater. It seemed she was becoming affectionate of more and more Death Eaters these days. She caught the seething glare of Lucius once or twice more during the dance but was too endeared by Silas' easy smile to care.

"Why are you here, Silas?" she asked as they floated around. The older man smiled grimly back at her.

"The same reason you are," he said. She frowned and looked away, realizing that he was also merely forced to be a Death Eater.

As her eyes wandered, she found that Lucius had risen from his seat. Silas followed her gaze.

"Thank you for the dance," she curtsied. "You are a good man."

At his smile and bright eyes, Hermione turned quickly and walked away from him, making a beeline for Fenrir. Before she could catch his attention, Lucius put himself in her way.

"Miss Granger," he began, frowning at her. "I don't recall giving you permission to attend."

"Fenrir brought me," she said, lifting her chin again. Lucius' eyes lingered angrily on the dress the werewolf had put on her.

"I can see that," he murmured. "If I don't surpass your last partner, he'll be answering to me."

Lucius held out his hand and Hermione slowly took it, knowing she'd get Silas in trouble if she didn't. The Dark wizard's hands were gentler than she had assumed they'd be as they turned in circles.

"Your wife is furious," Hermione smirked, peering at Narcissa where she stood amongst other wives, who were all tossing contemptuous looks at their husbands.

"She usually is," Lucius said smoothly, not looking away from Hermione. "I've been thinking on what you said."

Hermione looked back at him sharply and held her breath.

"I believe you're right; you'll never come to me as a captive. You're entirely too headstrong and proud," he said matter-of-factly. She still didn't trust herself to speak. "So there's only one answer for it: I'm going to let you return to them."

"You are?" she breathed, looking openly up at him. A smile was slowly spreading across her cheeks.

"Yes," he said after a pause. They twirled again, only making Hermione dizzier.

"What's the catch?" she asked, suddenly frowning.

"I will mark you," he said.

"As in—" Hermione suddenly found herself wondering if sex with Lucius was worth leaving the manor.

"No," he interrupted. "Such as this." He pulled up his sleeve and showed her the Dark mark. "It will not be this mark nor act the same. It's merely a mark."

"Why?"

"To show that you were once mine," he said passionately. It was not the passion of love, however, but of ownership.

"That is all?" she asked. "And you'll let me go?" Lucius nodded without expression. "I'll do it, I'll do it."

There was a flash of triumph that she didn't understand in his eyes. He stopped moving in the midst of all other dancers and pressed the tip of his wand to her right wrist. Hermione remained frozen with her free hand clutching his shoulder. When he spoke a spell she'd never heard, Hermione whimpered in pain and looked away.

The burning surrounded her wrist for what seemed like eternity. Hermione tried to distract herself by looking around. Silas was watching her with a poorly disguised look of concern. Hermione shook her head slightly at him and the man set his jaw before looking away. Fenrir was already striding toward them, weaving through dancers. Hermione swung her head the other way and connected with Snape.

His black eyes burned almost as fiercely as the skin on her wrist. Hermione tried to push the thought of home to the forefront of her mind and hoped he'd read it.

"Done," Lucius said lowly, moving his wand. Hermione looked down at his handiwork. A thin, tattooed bracelet of black circled her wrist. When she blinked to clear her watery gaze, she could see that it was a sinister dragon with enraged eyes and exposed teeth.

"Malfoy, what did you do?" Fenrir roared when he reached them. He took one look at her wrist and lunged at the other wizard. While the men toppled to the floor, Hermione turned away and fled. Others paid her exit no attention while Fenrir and Lucius fought.

She first went to her room to change and layer her clothing. According to the snow outside, she'd need as much warmth as possible. Once she'd prepared herself, she ran back down the stairs.

"You let her go?" she heard Snape ask. Hermione shoved herself against the wall to eavesdrop, knowing he was just around the corner.

"I left my mark for a reason, Severus," Lucius replied irritably. There was a pregnant pause and Hermione wondered if they had walked away.

"You think they'll deny her because of it?" Snape asked quietly.

"Yes," Lucius said.

"Then you've doomed the girl."

"Not necessarily," Lucius reasoned. "She'll think to come back. Greyback will want her here, if nothing else inspires her. I have a favor to ask of you, friend."

"I cannot possibly imagine it, since you've control over everything," Snape said sarcastically. Lucius chuckled.

"She'll need to be taken to that Order," Lucius said. "No, I'm not asking for its location. I'm merely asking you to take her. She'll never make it in the snow outside."

Hermione frowned, hearing the shadowed concern in Lucius' voice.

"Very well," Snape said after a pause of consideration. "I'll go find her."

She heard Lucius murmur his thanks and return to the ballroom. Given a moment of chance, Hermione rushed around the corner.

"Here," she breathed. "I'm here. Take me."

Snape lifted a heavy gaze to her and sighed.

"He may be right—"

"He's not. They'll want me."

"Then come here."

* * *

I hope everyone's holiday went well!

Next Chapter: Hermione goes to the Order for the first time with wolven blood and bearing Lucius' new mark.

Review! My review count has been sad lately. :( Oh! I'm also very glad you're all enjoying Fenrir! I rather like him myself!

Love!

Soline


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Seven**

"Walk through that doorframe when I tell you to. You'll find yourself in the headquarters," Snape said. Snow was falling lightly around them in a deserted town that Voldemort had once ravaged. They were looking at the burnt remains of a house, and the doorframe was one of the pieces of wood left standing.

"Thank you," she gushed.

"Listen, Granger," Snape snapped, looking around tiredly. "I'm serious. The Order is not as you remember; they might not trust you. If so, you'll need to run away. Go wherever you want, but Lucius is right. The safest place is at the manor. Fenrir wants to protect you. Even Lucius wants to take care of you."

"Severus," Hermione shook her head. "He threatened to rape me."

"He has terrible faults," he replied, "but he still wants you there. I won't try to explain it; the man has a devious mind."

"Goodbye," Hermione dismissed with a soft smile. Snape said several lines of spells and then motioned her to go.

"Think at least of this," Snape called as she neared the door. "You may end up having more friends on the Dark side than the Light."

Hermione opened her lips, although unsure of what she wanted to say, and then nodded unsurely. He gave her one more worried look before Apparating back to the manor. Hermione stepped through the doorway.

She found herself in a cramped hallway with books lined up so high against the wall that they reached the ceiling. Someone was asleep on the floor, their shoulders rising and falling steadily. Others, however, rushed into the hallway so fast that they shoved one another into the narrow walls.

"Hermione?" Harry gaped.

_He looks so old. _Ron, who had grown pale, looked almost as bad.

"Hello," she whispered.

Mr. Weasley, Charlie, and Ginny looked over their heads. Others were gathering behind them that Hermione couldn't see.

"Are you real?" Harry asked, stepping forward cautiously. "How did you find us?"

"Stop!" Mad Eye rasped from somewhere in the group and Harry did. "She could be dangerous."

"No!" Hermione gasped. "It's me, it's Hermione."

"She's right," Ron said firmly. Then, without regard to those behind him, Ron wrapped her in his arms and Harry soon joined them.

The next fifteen minutes was a whirl of tears and choking sobs. She was eventually placed at a kitchen table, surrounded by many others that she recognized from the Order and school. No one spoke as she told her story. Many faces darkened as she showed Fenrir's mark. Ron drew away from her as if burnt, and she failed to let the hurt show. Harry remained stiffly poised by her side.

"Why would he just let you go?" Mad Eye demanded. He had come to the forefront as soon as people let him through.

"He thinks you'll hate me and that I'll go running back to him."

"Likely," Mad Eye snorted, eyeing her distastefully. He jerked her arm out on the table. Her sleeve wrinkled upward to show Lucius' mark around her wrist. "Bind her."

Hermione yelped in surprise. It shocked her even more that the entire room swelled over her, grabbing her violently. She could hear small voices crying out for her, Charlie and Ginny's being the loudest among them. Harry was separated from her, and she felt rough ties binding her wrists and feet together. Then, hearing Charlie begin screaming obscenities at the crowd, Hermione blacked out.

* * *

"Drink, love," Charlie whispered. Hermione felt him knock a cold mug against her lips.

"Her wrists are raw!" Ginny exclaimed, rubbing Hermione's arms to warm her.

After swallowing a bit of water, Hermione began choking and the blindfold was pulled away from her eyes.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're still at the headquarters," Ginny scowled. "You've been out all day. Some bastard knocked you over the head with a book. The size you usually read."

"They're keeping you in the attic with the other prisoners. That's why it's so cold. We don't have much room, as you've noticed," Charlie explained. He lifted a dampened rag to the cut on her forehead.

"Does no one trust me?"

"_We_ do," Charlie said firmly. Ginny nodded.

"Harry doesn't know what to think – so many people are influencing his thoughts. Ron's simply a bloody idiot," Ginny snarled.

"How long will I be here?" Hermione asked. The two hesitated.

"See that man?" Ginny motioned to a lump in the corner. "He's been here ever since we moved in. I think he's actually dead."

Hermione shuddered.

"Why do you trust me?" she asked.

"Bill was bitten," they both said at once and then lowered their gazes. Charlie continued, "He was turned into a human wolf the same night you were. Only, Greyback didn't take him away as he did with you. With what little numbers we had left, we all retreated into hiding to recover. Mad Eye reacted to Bill the same way he had with you, only it was much worse. When Mad Eye attacked him, it was near full moon. Bill attacked back…"

"He nearly won, too!" Ginny interjected.

"But Mad Eye killed him," said Charlie.

"What!"

"Mad Eye thinks he runs the Order now. The few sensible ones look to Snape, but many are hoodwinked by Mad Eye into thinking Snape is the bad sort. Really, the Order of the Phoenix is absolute chaos and panic," Charlie finished.

"What about your father?"

"Dad," Ginny said sadly, "is constantly mourning. Ron, Charlie, and I are the only ones left to him."

"Oh, God…" Hermione breathed, blinking back tears.

The door opened just then and several people walked in. Charlie and Ginny moved away to let Remus Lupin kneel before her.

"Get out," he said to the rest of them.

"It's not safe—" began Mad Eye.

"Get out now or I won't take the Wolfsbane potion!"

Everyone hurried away until the other prisoners, alive or dead, were their only company. Hermione sniffed lightly at the familiar smell of a werewolf while Remus did the same.

"I wish you'd found me when this happened," he said sadly. His hair was almost completely gray now.

"Fenrir took me with him," Hermione said. "I didn't want to go."

"You want to go now, don't you?"

Hermione met his tired gaze levelly. "Wouldn't you?" she asked.

"The full moon is tomorrow night," he said. "How will you contain yourself around these people?"

"I don't intend to," Hermione snarled, flashing her teeth. Remus looked a little frightened so she continued. "I'm not staying here, Remus. I won't."

"It's safe for you here," he pleaded.

"They killed Bill!"

"Mad Eye didn't know better," Remus said, shaking his head. At her hard eyes, he sighed.

"Remus," she whispered. "Look at what they've done to me."

The man's face quivered for a moment and he dropped his head. "I know," he said in a strangled voice. "Oh, God, I know." His fingers stroked her hair as he looked up again.

"Then help me," she pleaded.

"You're going to go back to him, to Greyback," he said angrily.

"Fenrir loves me more than any of them!" she bristled and then chewed on her bottom lip as she paused. "But I don't plan on going back. Lucius can be dangerous."

"Where will you go?"

"I'll hide. I'll find someplace to hide out there—"

"No!" he growled, rubbing the stubble on his face roughly. "No, you can't. The world is too dangerous for you. Sellers are treating human wolves more lethally than before. They've invented this sort of _tracker_. They'll easily find you, Hermione; you don't even have a wand."

"Then…" she breathed. "If it's as dangerous as you say… I've got to go back to Fenrir."

"What about Harry?" Remus' face twisted at her words. She had a feeling he was looking for an incentive for her to stay.

"_What_ abut Harry?" she snapped. "He didn't defend me. He's nothing more than a spineless had-been hero."

"You don't mean it."

Hermione sighed and looked away, shrugging.

"I'll help you, Hermione," he said finally. "I'll wait for you outside tomorrow night. I'll show you the way."

Mad Eye came storming back, ordering Remus to leave if he was going to play nice with the she-wolf.

"It's full moon tomorrow night, Mad Eye," Hermione called sweetly. "I'm sure you know that."

The old man stormed over to her, but she continued to sneer at him. Only when he had beaten her several times with the walking stick, the last time across the jaw, did she stop smiling.

"Listen, the both of you. Hide somewhere tonight. Mad Eye's going to try and subdue me, but he can't really. You gather up anyone you deem trustworthy and hide so I can't find you."

Charlie and Ginny had agreed eagerly; they were glad to know that Hermione planned to escape. After they both kissed and hugged her several times, Hermione affectionately watched the two leave together.

Night came just as quickly as Hermione wanted it to. For once, she couldn't wait to change. She could feel herself growing stronger with every second. If she truly wanted to, she could leave that very instant, but she didn't. Some dark, vindictive monster inside wanted to take revenge on the people that used to love her.

Mad Eye and several other wizards stood around her, their wands poised stiffly. Hermione glanced out the small window and grinned toothily. They shifted, but Hermione was waiting for midnight. She'd be truly monstrous then.

And it came. She howled, and out in the night, Remus answered her.

With blood flashing in her eyes, Hermione burst out of her restraints and lunged at the wizards. She rid of Mad Eye most violently, who stood his ground bravely until the end, doing what he thought was right.

With hot blood dripping off her fingertips, Hermione lowered herself down the attic stairs and then took off at a run.

Much of the bloodbath in the headquarters was blinding; Hermione couldn't remember details afterwards.

She crashed through walls where people were screaming just to terrorize them. If someone stood up to challenge her, the she-wolf attacked as viciously as any normal werewolf. Soon, blood was a shining layer all over the floor.

She sniffed the air, searching for either Harry or Ron and found that they must have hidden with Ginny and Charlie. Some part of her was sad for not being able to terrify them; she wouldn't have spilled their blood.

Near the front door, Hermione hurled a woman into the wall of books. A man grabbed her from behind but Hermione sank her teeth deep into his arm as he screamed. Licking the blood from her lips, she slammed the man on the floor and darted out the door, smiling cruelly.

Remus howled in the woods nearby and Hermione sprinted to him, finding a werewolf pacing and growling in the snow. It, Remus, snarled at her and approached to sniff at her. She let him, excited at the prospect of running with him. He licked the blood from her hands, then turned and sped into the night. Hermione followed, her wild, bloodied mane of hair flying out behind her.

* * *

Don't get uppity about the violence; she _is_ half-werewolf.

Next Chapter: Hermione's headed back to the Manor and back to Lucius. We see his reaction to her homecoming, and Hermione's reaction to her time at the Order.

Review please! Because JK's latest little book came out and everyone's happy! :D

Love!

Soline


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Eight**

They ran through the entire night, never stopping or slowing. Remus seemed intent on getting her as far away as possible from the Order. He didn't even sniff twice at a passing deer.

The landscape began to look familiar to Hermione, as if she had run through it before. She realized she must have hunted here the last full moon, meaning the manor was nearby.

The sun was beginning to rise. Hermione could feel her strength waning and found it increasingly harder to keep up with Remus. He stopped completely, at last, and let her rest. While he was nuzzling at her drooping head, Remus began to change back.

Hermione looked away out of respect, realizing wolves didn't wear clothes, and handed him her winter cloak to wear. After he took it from her, she looked again.

They stared at one another, both sitting exhausted on the forest floor.

"Thank you," she panted. He nodded.

"How much of a mess will I find when I return?" he asked.

"I don't recommend returning for at least a week," she frowned. "You may hate me."

"I could never," he said quickly. Hermione gave him a grateful smile, which he returned.

They both jerked their heads up, sensing it at the same time.

"Greyback," Remus growled at the same time Hermione said, "Fenrir!"

She barely had time to stumble to her feet and take a few running steps before Fenrir burst into the clearing.

"I knew it," he growled. "I knew I smelled you."

Remus crawled to his feet, worried for Hermione, but Fenrir enveloped her in his arms. She returned the embrace eagerly.

"How much of this blood is yours?" he snarled, inspecting her.

"Not much," Hermione blushed.

"Lupin," Fenrir suddenly said, slowly and deeply. He suddenly looked dangerous.

"No, don't hurt him!" Hermione cried, running back to Remus and wrapping her arms around one of his. "He helped me. He brought me back here."

"Did he?"

Fenrir circled them. Hermione could feel Remus shaking. Fenrir stopped near her and sniffed.

"He hasn't mated with you," he said flatly.

"I love her, Greyback, but much like you do," Remus growled. The two werewolves faced each other.

"Thank you then, Lupin," he said shortly. Remus nodded and turned to Hermione.

"You made the right choice," Remus said, glancing at Fenrir. "I don't like it, but I can't say it's not the right thing to have done. You're safe here, not with the Order."

"You could stay with me," Hermione pleaded. Fenrir made a noise of approval.

"This is the Dark side, love," he said gently. "Your situation is different from mine. I don't belong here."

"Goodbye then," Hermione said after trying to quell tears.

"Goodbye, Hermione," he said affectionately. He then Apparated so quickly that Hermione wasn't sure he had been there at all.

Fenrir picked her up immediately, but she didn't protest. She was too tired and gloomy to stop her arms from clutching at Fenrir's neck. They went straight to the manor, where Fenrir stormed his way toward her room. He had just reached the bathroom when Lucius hurried in.

"When did she arrive?" he said loudly.

"Just now. She's hurt and tired. Don't mess with her," Fenrir snapped. Hermione smiled from her spot on the floor at Lucius' indignant expression. For some reason, the whole situation was very funny and comforting after her visit to the Order. "You sent her to the dogs and look at what's happened," the furious werewolf spat. "Draw up some fucking water."

While Lucius gritted his teeth and went to the bath, Fenrir tended to Hermione. He removed her clothes gently, knowing she had been badly bruised, and then lowered her into the hot water.

"One wrong idea, Malfoy, and I'll rip out your gullet with my teeth," Fenrir said, noticing Lucius' eyes running over her body. Hermione laughed and both men narrowed their eyes at her. She drifted in and out of sleep as they worked the dried blood off of her body and located all of her injuries.

"I'll call for Severus," Lucius said, sounding faint to Hermione. Fenrir was drying her off and setting her on the bed. She smiled in its warmth.

"Wake up," a new voice said. Hermione opened her eyes blearily. Things had calmed down since she arrived and she guessed she had slept for some time. "Look at me."

Hermione found Fenrir, Lucius, and Snape all looking down at her and wasn't sure which one she had been told to look at.

"Which one's 'me'?"

"Me," Snape said.

"Ah," murmured Hermione. "Okay." She rolled her head toward him while he checked her eyes.

"She hasn't been poisoned," he confirmed to the other two. She watched him pull a small jar of salve from his robes and applied it to all of her bruises. Then he tipped a very small flask to her lips. "Drink. It will heal your bones."

The concoction was easy to swallow; it tasted rather sweet. It also made her feel much less sore almost immediately.

"What happened?" Snape asked after Hermione made a sound of content. She suddenly frowned.

"They didn't want me."

None of the men moved.

"In detail, Granger," Lucius said tersely. So she sighed and began from the beginning, from the moment she stepped into the headquarters. And she told them every bit except about the Order's panic and Harry's lack of enthusiasm, although that would have been easy to surmise. When she told of her destruction the night she left, Fenrir smiled proudly. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at him.

"You were changed then," Snape said quietly. "You couldn't control it."

"No," Hermione snapped. "I did control it. I did because I wanted to kill them. They _deserved_ it."

They stared at her, and she glared defiantly at each of them in turn. Snape looked to be in grim shock.

"Granger, you're coming into dangerous territory," he said warningly. "Which side do you think you're on now?"

It was Hermione's turn to be in shock. She wet her mouth.

"Get out," she said weakly.

"Granger—" Lucius began.

"_Get out!_" she screamed, sitting straight up and clutching the blankets to her chest.

"She needs to rest," Snape muttered and motioned for them all to leave.

She had helped Voldemort. She had slaughtered people with a similar goal of her own. She murdered ones she had attended school with. She had done it in the most gruesome ways she could think of, and she had enjoyed it. She had become like a Death Eater.

Was she still?

Snape slipped into her room again. Everyone had left her alone for hours but he was back to check her injuries. He did so silently, and she didn't speak before him.

"They're healed completely now," he murmured.

"I don't," Hermione pleaded, "want to be a Death Eater. I never meant to be."

"You're not, and you never will be," Snape said levelly.

"But what I did…"

"You acted out of need for survival and the basic human desire for revenge," Snape said. Hermione grabbed his hand.

"You can't excuse me for what I've done!"

"I'm going to," he told her firmly. "I'll forgive you because I've done much worse things. Does it make me truly evil?"

"No, you're not," she said urgently.

"Then you certainly aren't," he replied and graced her with a small smile. "Lucius wants to see you. Shall I tell him you're vomiting all over the bed?"

"Yes," Hermione mumbled. "Don't let him in."

Snape shut out the lights as he left, casting blackness around Hermione's still form and she stared blindly into the shadow for hours. She was trying to remember what all she'd done at the Order. Who had she killed?

She could remember hot, steaming blood in the cold air.

Remembered the sound skin made when it tore, wet and ripping.

Thick, warm life running down her throat…

Hermione blinked, staring wide-eyed into a dark corner of her room where two lurid green eyes gleamed at her.

"H-Harry?" she stammered. The eyes blinked.

"_Hermione_," Harry's voice hissed. "What have you done?"

"I _protected_ myself!" Hermione said shakily, clutching at the blankets as Harry moved toward her.

"_You slaughtered people!_" he screamed. She shrank into the pillows. Harry stood over her now, his face incensed and bloodless. "I loved you, Hermione!"

"You forgot about me!" Hermione snapped. "You left me for the world to tear me apart!"

"No, I love you," he snarled. His mouth and eyebrows twisted in such a way that dark shadows filled the contours of his face. "How can I show you what you've done?"

Harry plunged his fingers into Hermione's chest, through flesh and bone and muscle until she felt his iron grip wrench on her heart.

Hermione screamed, her hands pulling at the cotton covering her chest and smashing her body back into the headboard. Her ripping cry continued until someone slammed her bedroom doors open and lunged onto her bed. Lucius scrambled up the mattress until he sat on his knees in front of her.

"Granger!" he urged. Hermione fixed him with wide, panicked amber eyes.

"Harry," she gasped. "My heart— He— reached in…" She tugged her collar away from her chest. "Do you see it?"

Lucius leaned forward, his fingertips rubbing on her unmarred skin. "There's nothing, Miss Granger. You were having a nightmare."

"No!" she spat. "He ripped it out!" Lucius shook his head and lowered his wand, taking her hand and pressing her palm against her own chest.

"Do you feel it?" he asked simply. Hermione stopped breathing for a moment, and then felt the assuring pound against her hand.

"It was a dream," she sighed. "He was so real. Right _there_." Lucius turned and lit his wand in the direction she pointed. The corner was empty, save a chair and a mirror.

"Well." Lucius moved to rub her calf, and then pulled his hand away in hesitance. "Goodnight, Miss Granger."

"Wait!" Hermione urged. He turned his silver eyes on her. "Stay… I'm…"

"You're afraid," he finished for her. Then Lucius gently grabbed behind her knees and pulled her down so her head was on the pillows again. Chuckling, he lay down beside her and said, "The big bad wolf is afraid."

Hermione pursed her lips but sniffed, feeling hot tears in the corners of her eyes. She felt Lucius' smooth fingers touch her face, and she jerked away.

"Why didn't you want to see me after Severus treated you?" he asked.

"I'd been hurt enough; I didn't need you to help to make it worse," Hermione scathed, swiping at her eyes. "You knew what was going to happen, didn't you? You knew what they'd do to me… beat me to bruises – to broken bones – to a vengeful, murderous monster… practically… rip out my heart."

"Perhaps that explains your dream."

Hermione couldn't help it. She tried hard not to cry, not to be weak, but now her chest was tightening so badly she thought it would explode. She inhaled a long, shuddering breath and tears burned her cheeks.

"I want to give you what you need," he said lowly, hesitantly. He sounded unsure. Hermione wished she could see his eyes in the dark. "Let me touch you."

His hands were on her. Hermione panicked, think he was trying to rape her again. She bucked away from him, but Lucius forced her against him, his arms pulling her face against his pale, cool skin of his shoulder.

Then, Hermione realized Lucius was comforting her. He was holding her as she straddled his lap and strained against his hold.

Hermione dropped her wet face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm a monster," she whispered haggardly.

"No," he disagreed. She felt his muscles contract around her back. Hermione was running dry of tears, her heaving shoulders now only driven by hiccups. She mindlessly rubbed Lucius' hair between her fingers and felt her forehead nodding against his neck. "You are the… Sleep, Miss Granger."

He turned and lowered them to the bed, letting Hermione remain wrapped around him. She was drifting into a warm, welcome silence. Somewhere, drifting through that cloudy silence, Hermione thought she heard, "You are the most faultless girl I've ever encountered… it's bothersome… and far from a monster, Miss Granger."

But she could have dreamt it.

* * *

Sorry about the time it's taken to get this chapter out; now that I'm home it's hard to get online.

Lucius might have _feelings_ for our little wolf! Maybe his now acknowledged feelings will keep him from hurting our Hermione. Or maybe they'll just make him angry. Although it does seem as if he's gotten revenge out of his system.

Have a wonderful Christmas everyone! You know what to do if you want to leave me a present! *wink*

Love!

Soline


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Nine**

Hermione acquired acivilized life at the Malfoy Manor. She was now allowed to roam freely through the hallways and outside. Lucius refused her entrance to the basement, but Hermione was quite sure there were dungeons down there. Lucius himself was somewhat more pleasant to be around.

She figured he'd had enough of his revenge after she had returned beaten and bloodied. He did, however, still look at her under lowered brows with a silver shine in his eyes. She had eventually stamped out his blatant lusting once she said, "If you attack me again, Lucius, I'll have Fenrir eat you."

And that had settled _that_.

The werewolf had taken to visiting her often. On full moon nights, she'd leave the manor to run with Fenrir and return to where Lucius waited the next morning. Sometimes, she'd stay in the forest until evening just to worry him. Hermione was endlessly amused by the Dark wizard's apparent concern for her.

She was doing so this night, walking through the forest alone toward the manor. She always left Fenrir before he changed once more, because he felt he was dangerous around her if she wasn't changed also. Hermione was still tired from the night before but otherwise exhilarated. When she met Lucius on the front step, she laughed a little, picturing her state. She had lost her shoes the night before, and her jeans and shirt wore torn to pieces by the bramble she and Fenrir had torn through playfully.

"Good evening," Lucius drawled, eyeing her appearance with distaste.

"Evening," she replied, resuming the serious expression she mocked him with occasionally. He narrowed his eyes at her and she rearranged her face; she knew there was still a limit with him. Lucius still remained frightening if he grew angry.

"I've met you outside to warn you of our visitors tonight," he said, his eyebrow quirking at her. Hermione smirked; that was maybe partly true. The man always grew anxious when she took so long to return after a night of hunting. "The Death Eaters have gathered here early for our Dark Lord's arrival. Mind you don't enter the ballroom tonight."

Hermione nodded; she would avoid Voldemort without question. In fact, now that she knew Harry was a lost cause, Hermione had little urge to fight the evil bastard. Harry had been their only hope, after all.

"Meanwhile, the Death Eaters will be roaming about. They're having… their own sort of revelry, you understand. None of them will touch you," he said. Lucius touched her tattooed wrist briefly. "None of them will touch you unless you invite it."

"You think I'd invite it?" Hermione said incredulously.

"I think you are a young girl," Lucius said lowly. Hermione's face furrowed in confusion, but Lucius led her inward.

The air smelled different to Hermione and she sniffed at it cautiously, a little afraid of its intensity. The wolf inside her, although tired from the night before, lifted its head and growled. She smelled it all through the hallways but saw nothing of the source in the hallways. Lucius seemed a little relieved when they reached her room without interruption and he excused himself quickly, with little words to her.

Hermione bathed and dressed in a casual, dark purple dress Bunny had brought her. The house elf had developed an amusingly keen interest in dressing Hermione and had surprisingly good taste.

Although she nearly laid down for a nap, Hermione decided she had better eat dinner first or she'd recover less quickly. So she once again stepped out into the queer smelling hallways. She had only taken five tentative steps before freezing completely.

The smell of blood trickled out around the door of one of the many guest bedrooms. Her wolfish curiosity took hold enough to make her inch open the door.

"Oh…" Hermione breathed, putting her amber eye to the crack in the door. On the bed were three people, a woman and two men. They were all naked to their waists and crawling over one another. One of the men pulled a small knife away from the woman's chest, where he had left a very small cut above her breast. The woman, a handsome brunette with full breasts that made Hermione blush, moaned and wriggled.

Hermione was aghast that the woman was actually enjoying the pain, but she was more conflicted with the wolf rearing in her chest. Her blood was beginning to pump loudly in her ears. She was briefly taken back to the Order headquarters, where she craved for human blood so badly that it burned her lungs. And not only was she desiring the blood, but Hermione's wolfish, unexplored lust was poking its head out of hiding.

Before she realized what she had done, Hermione pushed open the door quietly. The three on the bed grinned identically at her wide eyes. The two men were both very built and dark-haired. The one cutting the woman had scars marring his torso that disappeared under the waistband of his pants.

Hermione felt the tumbled blankets under her hands and knew she had numbly walked to the bed. She had no other goal than the blood on the woman's chest, now spilling slowly down her breast.

"Hello, love," the woman said, and Hermione took her outstretched hand.

"She's young, Vera," the scarred man said.

"Brom likes the young ones," Vera said, smiling evilly and pushing Hermione's hair back from her face. The other man, Brom, smiled in affirmation and fingered the hem of Hermione's dress. "Who is she?"

"I'm Lucius'," Hermione said faintly, eyeing the blooding trickling down Vera's stomach now. She wanted nothing more than to lean forward and taste it. Her belly was warming uncomfortably. The wolf was now pacing in her chest excitedly. "I'm his she-wolf."

"Ah," the scarred one said. They all pulled their hands away from her and watched curiously. She remembered that they wouldn't touch her unless it was invited.

Hermione's lungs were beginning to burn with the desire and thirst for scarlet life. She leaned forward, crawling over Vera's legs, and lowered her face slowly to the woman's stomach. Her tongue trailed over the woman's flesh until she reached the cut above her breast. It must have seemed like an invitation to the three.

"Remember me?" the scarred man said huskily, lifting Hermione's face to look at her. She studied him hazily for the first time; the wolf had taken her over and she felt control spinning away from her.

Then she noticed him to be the Spaniard from the human wolf auction months before, the one she had hoped would buy her. The realization was slow in her mind and didn't seem to matter while her senses felt drugged.

"I'm Antio," he continued. Antio lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, tasting the blood on her tongue. His hand had snuck under her dress to rest on her thigh. Hermione heard Vera moan, and she turned away from Antio to look.

Vera and Brom had rid of all of their clothing, and he was now crawling between her legs.

"Would you like to watch?" Antio asked in her ear. He turned her, keeping his hands under her breast and on her thigh, and began kissing her neck. Hermione shuddered helplessly. The room seemed to have grown completely hazy. Her senses were through the roof: she could smell every drop of sweat and hear every sound of pleasure. Antio's fingers were kneading the pink skin of her thighs.

Blushing furiously, Hermione caught sight of Brom's erection. He pushed it into Vera and she wrapped her legs around him. Hermione whimpered, her belly clenching almost painfully and began struggling for breath while Antio chuckled in her ear. His hand on her leg traveled upward and Hermione let her head fall back on his shoulder. She found herself looking toward the door and Lucius was gazing back at her from it.

Cold fear gripped her stomach; she thought Lucius was going to be furious but then was distracted by Vera's hissing intake of breath – Brom had left a short cut on the side of her neck. Hermione whimpered loudly as the smell of blood overwhelmed her once more.

"Do you want it, wolf?" Antio teased, his teeth nipping at her neck.

Hermione growled, baring her canines a little at the man. His fingers were playing at the edge of her panties. She bent forward onto her hands and knees and delicately swiped her tongue against Vera's neck, feeling the woman writhe under her and Brom.

Antio's fingers slipped into her underwear, his touch sliding in her slickness.

Hermione lashed out at him.

Maybe she felt protective of Vera's blood and Antio seemed like a contender, or maybe it seemed as if Antio were a threat, but the she-wolf turned and shoved Antio off the bed. Then, with their laughter behind her, Hermione leapt to her feet and ran out of the room, knocking shoulders with Lucius as she darted by.

"Fuck!" Hermione said shakily, slamming her bedroom doors behind her. She blinked away tears and rubbed furiously at her neck where she could still feel Antio's attentions. Then, collapsing into a chair, Hermione put her hands between her legs to grip her thighs, trying desperately to quell the ache there.

Lucius came in quietly, his eyes dark and unreadable. She refused to look at him.

"How long were you there?" she hissed, quickly moving her hands away from her thighs.

"Since you crawled onto the bed," Lucius answered calmly. "I had come back to bring you dinner." The silver tray made a small clinking noise as he set it down.

"Antio," she said tearfully. "Why is he here? He's not a Death Eater. And why didn't you stop it?"

"Antio is a Death Eater now; the Dark Lord met him at the auction and found him to be a suitable international relationship. As to why I didn't stop you… I know you wanted it."

"No. They're Death Eaters."

"I saw it. You _did_ want it. You still do."

"Shut up!" she snarled, jumping to her feet. Lucius grabbed her quickly and crushed her against him. Hermione rose onto her toes and kissed him, her tongue reaching deep and stroking. He responded feverishly, his hands pulling at her dress.

"Why do you deny yourself lust?" he asked roughly. "Do you know how good you looked with them? With your whimpers… your blushes… your curious eyes?"

"It's wrong," she panted. "They're wrong. _You_ are wrong!"

He moved her against the wall, trapping her. His fingers were tugging her dress up.

"Aren't you aching, girl? Don't you want to be filled?" he growled. She clutched at his robes and said nothing. His hand was already in her panties and her hips moved as he gently worked himself in. "Say you want me."

Hermione gasped, her lidded eyes finding his. He wanted her to give him permission right then.

"Not fair," she hissed as he manipulated her with his fingers. She could feel his longing on her hip.

"Say it," he said gruffly. He redoubled his efforts on her body, his thumb also working in circles over her inflamed skin. Hermione felt that wolfish lust roar, and it frightened her.

"Stop," she panted. He paused but still ever-so-slowly continued stroking her with his fingers. "I said no! I'll call Fenrir!"

He withdrew his hand and slowly dropped her dress back into place. Hermione felt her body hating her mind for refusing him.

"As you wish, Miss Granger," he glowered. "But, while you're stuck here with your morals, I'll relieve the pain your teasing has caused elsewhere."

Tearing his gaze away from her hurt eyes, Lucius left her.

Hermione went to bed without her dinner, feeling sick and uneasy and suddenly reconsidering Lucius' sexual appeal. The man was old enough to be her father, after all, but then that seemed to make him more irresistible. It made him… experienced. The practical word made Hermione shiver even under the heavy blankets - _experienced_.

She was drifting into sleep by the time he undressed by the bed. She was surprised; she thought he'd avoid her for days. When he settled beside her, he trailed his knuckles down the spine of her back.

"I'm awake," she snapped but didn't move to make him stop touching her. "Have you _relieved_ yourself?"

"You're afraid," he said, not questioning. His tone made her think he had only just made this discovery.

"Yes," she said after a moment of hesitation. He wrapped a heavy arm around her middle.

"Afraid of me?" he asked. Hermione knew that if she rolled over and looked, he'd be smirking.

"A little," she said slowly. Then she turned toward Lucius and looked him fully in the eye for the first time while they both lay in that bed. His long, blonde hair draped haphazardly on his shoulder, his eyes cool and lips parted slightly. "Ever since I was bitten, lust is not the same for me. It sometimes used to hit me at random moments, while I admired a man's smile or the way he walked. That was before I learned to control it, but _then_," Hermione sighed, "it was almost impossible to fight. I once took a man to the ground and began—"

"Yes?" Lucius urged, a grin slowly starting to form.

"Well," Hermione smirked, "I pushed all that away, made it hide. This new blood in me… it scares me sometimes. Like tonight. I couldn't stay away from them."

"You refused me," he said, sounding slightly hard. Hermione paused.

"Were you bleeding like she was?" she asked pointedly.

"Mm," he frowned.

Hermione bit her lip, suddenly remembering the rocking movements of his fingers. She let her eyes flutter shut for a second and chewed her lip.

"What did you do to the man you took to the ground?" he asked slyly, his fingers smoothing the material of her nightgown against her back.

"I stripped him naked in the middle of a busy London street and started biting his nipples until someone chased me off," Hermione said quietly. Lucius boomed with laughter, his bare chest shaking. "Oh, shut it!"

"Miss Granger, my dear," he laughed, "don't fear to unleash that lust against me. I may rather like it."

* * *

So Hermione has a small fear of lust (as many booksmart, young girls do)... will Lucius break the fear? ...*grin* Review please!

Love!

Soline


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Ten**

Hermione was content at the Malfoy Manor, happy at best, and didn't feel bothered by it. _That_ revelation bothered her.

She knew she was in a generally good mood unless Lucius happened to be a grumpy ass, or unless his fingers wandered on her skin, which Hermione had no mind to welcome yet. She hadn't forgotten the night she encountered the three intimate Death Eaters but tried stubbornly to shove the memory into the dark places of her mind.

Fenrir was completely genial toward her, even fatherly in a roundabout way. And he had promised her to eat Lucius if Hermione was threatened again.

Lucius hadn't bothered to take Hermione on any more missions. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she had a hunch. The wizard seemed to be getting more and more annoyed at her lack of lust toward him. Little did he know Hermione resisted the urge to taste his skin on a nightly basis, but he had underestimated something he didn't even understand: Hermione certainly was the brightest, most determined witch of her age, and she could read him like _Hogwarts, A History_. The man would use her and leave her once he was satiated. She didn't want that.

So, as long as Fenrir's hungry tummy rumbled, Hermione would remain safe from Lucius' lust.

It had been nearly six months since Lucius had bought her at the auction; four since she fled from the Order of the Phoenix. She was beginning to get anxious at her comfortable situation; why wasn't she with the side she fought for? Why was she eating feasts for breakfast and sleeping in a warm bed, sometimes beside an enemy?

She sighed and stirred, pushing away the books around her. She had discovered Lucius' library long ago and was busy acquainting herself with some of his hundreds of volumes. After reading so much about magic, her hand was twitching to hold a wand again. It had been so long since; she often practiced in seclusion to remember the motions, making believe her wand was there again.

"I find you here alone a lot," Fenrir said. Hermione had smelled him coming; a human could probably smell the blood on him just as easily.

"I like to read," Hermione answered simply, sitting on her knees to sweep all the books into a pile and then set them on a nearby table

"It's not healthy for a wolf to be inside so much."

"Then I'll read outside tomorrow," she smiled and Fenrir growled his discontent. "What? Reading amuses me very well, you know. Books are better friends than people most times."

"That's what I've come to talk about," he said, looking at her unhappily. "I'd like you to meet the pack."

Hermione was a little shocked. It was supposed to be dangerous to meet a pack of werewolves. The females would be the hardest on her; they'd fight for dominance.

"I can't match full-blooded werewolves," she said, shaking her head.

"If they touch you, they'll have me to deal with," he snarled.

"Shall we tell Lucius?"

"No," Fenrir snapped. They made their way out of the manor, walking lightly through the trees. He said, slightly forcibly, "I want you to look for a mate."

"What!" Hermione whirled around to face him, her expression panicked. "Why?"

"You need a companion," he said firmly. "You have not chosen Lucius and so you'll be offered others."

"Fenrir!"

"You should understand that werewolves are unfailingly faithful to one another, no matter how unruly we are," he continued more loudly. "They share their kills. They run together at full moon. Cubs are raised by the both of them… You'll want to have cubs soon."

"Fenrir!" Hermione snarled, his name ripping from between her teeth. He glanced at her. "Do _not_ turn me into that sort of woman! I _will not_ become someone's mate because it's expected! I _may_ have cubs when I'm damn well ready!"

"And so you'll what?" he roared, turning on her now. Hermione flinched back; Fenrir had never gotten angry with her before. He grabbed her upper arms and shook, his eyes shining with anger and disappointment. "Yes, I've noticed you sitting inside that library for days straight. Your eyes fly through books of adventure; your hands twitch for the glory of magic once again. The wolf inside you is telling you to run."

He released her with a jerk, his arms throwing her back a few steps.

"And then?" he growled. "And then you'll run. You'll forget this place."

Hermione felt the sting of tears and released the breath she had been holding.

"You're trying to keep me here. You want me to find a mate and have cubs so I won't leave," she panted.

"Damn right," he said roughly. She shook her head.

"I'm comfortable here, Fenrir," she said soothingly. "I have you. Without this place, I'd be running for my life in the real world."

"Isn't that what you want?" he asked. "You're so used to journeys and thrills. Could you keep yourself here?"

"What is it?" Hermione snapped, stepping so close to Fenrir that the blood on his robes made her woozy. "Why me, Fenrir? _Why_ did you choose to hunt _me_ down, and then keep me? What makes you treat me so differently?"

Fenrir looked furious and, snarling, placed his fingers on her stomach and pushed her away.

"I—" he began angrily, and then Fenrir paused and seemed to collect himself. "When I hunted you, I had no intention of treating you well. I hunted you as I did all others. And then you fell into me, and you felt just like…"

Hermione didn't even breathe as he paused, hearing Fenrir truly speak for the first time.

"I had a daughter… once."

Fenrir growled deeply and turned away from her.

"You did?" she asked quietly.

"Her name was Elaine," Fenrir continued. "Her mother died giving birth. She was mine for six years. She had…curly hair… She was killed by the werewolf that made me, and I killed him two days after."

Fenrir heaved his shoulders, rolling out the tension as Hermione reached his side.

"That is why… cub."

"I'll always come back," she said. She couldn't promise him that she'd never leave. The old werewolf sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. "I'll go see your pack. I'll honestly consider your males. I promise."

He nodded and led onward. Hermione's hands itched to comfort him, but she balled them into fists.

They eventually came into an area where the trees were sparser. Crudely erected tents spotted the landscape and the air smelled a little rotten. People were milling about their fireplaces or mingling with each other. They were all dressed differently: some preferred only pants while others were swathed in nice clothing, and even more clothing was stiff with blood.

They looked up as Fenrir and Hermione came into view. She hardened her eyes and squared her shoulders, facing the werewolves with disguised fear. The females automatically glared and bared their teeth. Some men simply glanced their way and continued with what they were doing; Hermione assumed they had mates. Other men watched her predatorily. She met each of their gazes evenly.

Fenrir pointed wordlessly at young men as they walked through the camp. Each time he motioned to one, the young werewolf would fall in step behind Fenrir and Hermione. She resisted the urge to glance warily over her shoulder at the growing number of full-blooded werewolves behind her.

They stopped walking at Fenrir's camp: a secluded tent and large fireplace near a stream.

"This is my cub," he announced, looking threatening. Hermione glanced at the group of men and noticed that none of them had worried expressions, but some stiffened their stances. Fenrir gave her a small push on the back, and Hermione stepped among the group of werewolves.

There were about ten and a strong, musky scent around all of them that made her inhale slowly.

She approached the first and sniffed lightly, and he did the same. His expression darkened under light hair as he muttered, "Human wolf."

Fenrir snarled behind her, just as he did before he'd attack and kill.

"Get the hell out of my sight," Hermione snapped, baring her teeth. "Anyone who has a problem with me being human wolf, get the hell out of here now, you unworthy bastards."

Six werewolves left, looking grumpy and frightened of Fenrir at the same time. The remaining four were studying her levelly, judging her. Hermione decided that young werewolves had an annoyingly large ego complex.

"You three leave," she demanded after sniffing at them. She was surprised at how easily she judged a person by their smell. The last and only werewolf was now regarding her curiously. Hermione smiled.

He wasn't much taller than her with lanky, lightly muscled limbs and clean-looking black hair. His eyes were dark blue, like the color of a night sky. Also, either his lips were thin or he wasn't pleased with her selection.

"I don't like him," Fenrir said flatly.

"You wouldn't have liked any of them," she scoffed, approaching the young werewolf warily. "Besides, I'm not deciding on my mate. Right now, I'm deciding on my friend."

Fenrir looked a bit more pleased with that.

"Sorry about him," Hermione said to the werewolf. He narrowed his eyes at her and then cocked his head to the side.

"Right," Fenrir laughed gruffly. "He doesn't speak English. I don't know where he came from; just showed up and slid into our pack without much notice." Hermione sighed.

"Hermione," she said, pointing to herself. The werewolf's gaze followed her gesture.

"Yani," he replied, his vowels as thick and warm as chocolate. He pointed to his chest. Hermione laughed delightedly and Yani's lips curved upward.

Hermione talked to her new friend for the remainder of the day, although it was more like a prolonged game of charades. After a bit, Yani looked at her expectantly, as if he anticipated her ranting about something he couldn't understand. When she frowned, he frowned. When she laughed, he laughed.

"I'm glad to have a friend, you know," she admitted. "Fenrir's close to me, but it's not the same. Where did you come from?"

He gave her a questioning look. Hermione pursed her lips, thinking, and then took his hand. She could smell Fenrir following far behind as she led Yani through the trees. When she reached the edge of the manor, she pointed toward the Malfoy Manor on the hill.

"I live there," she said, pointing to herself, then the manor, and then back to herself again. "You?"

He smiled and pointed up at the sky. Hermione looked up in confusion.

"You live up there?" she asked, pointing up also. He grinned.

After they said goodbye, Hermione wandered back up to the manor, staring in wonder at the clouds.

This time, Hermione surrounded herself with books about heavens and clouds. She wanted to know what they could hold and if anything could come down from them. She was so immersed that Lucius slipped in the library undetected.

"You're up late," he said, moving closer to look at her selections.

"Mm," Hermione agreed unconsciously.

He sat on the floor behind her, placing a leg on either side of hers. Hermione yawned, her eyelids growing heavy. He reached around her and closed the book in her hands, reading the title.

"The heavens, Miss Granger?" he murmured.

"I was reading that," she said sleepily.

"Of course," he replied. He placed it still closed on the floor between her legs and wrapped his arms around her stomach. She leaned back onto his chest, her eyes closing in defeat.

"I made a friend today," she mumbled.

"Who?"

"Yani. He's a werewolf in Fenrir's pack. Doesn't speak English," she said. Lucius' hands splayed on her stomach and then he interlocked his fingers.

"Do you want him?" he said, his voice sounding tight.

"How do you mean?"

"Do you want him to be your… mate?"

"No," she said. "I want a friend here is all." Hermione's forehead rolled into the crook of Lucius' neck.

"You can tell me if you want someone else," Lucius said decidedly. There was only a little heat behind his voice, which surprised Hermione.

"I don't want to have sex with Yani," she sighed. After another big yawn she murmured, "You'll be gone."

"Hm?"

"You want me now. Once you've had me enough, you'll leave me. A conquest…"

Lucius said nothing. Leaving the books strewn on the floor, he extricated himself from around Hermione and walked her to bed.

* * *

Review please!

Love!

Soline


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Chapter Eleven**

"Lucius?"

Hermione's eyes shot open, and then she cringed against the morning light. The yellow glow poured in the open window and across the bed where she and Lucius lay. He'd taken off his shirt in the nighttime, and his hair spilled across his chest. His pinkened lips were slightly open, and he looked completely relaxed except for the growing line between his brows.

Wait, hadn't she heard something?

"Lucius!"

Hermione bolted upright, clutching the blanket to her chest although she was fully clothed. Before she could do anything else, the bedroom door flew open and bounced on the wall. Narcissa appeared - impeccably groomed in a Chinese style dress. Hermione felt a small twinge of jealousy for the witch's thinness.

"You!" she snarled. "Get away from my husband!"

And then Narcissa's wand was pointed at her, and Hermione saw it spark green.

Lucius flashed beside her, his wand arm a blur, and he Disarmed his wife. In a blink, he jumped off the bed, grabbed Narcissa's upper arm and flung her into the hallway. Hermione heard her smash into the opposite wall.

"_What_ do you think you're doing?" Lucius hissed. The muscles in his shoulders flexed like he was thinking about attacking his wife again.

"You're with her again, Lucius!" Narcissa wailed.

"Obviously. It's not your business." His voice deepened to a drawl, but Hermione could hear the danger lacing it.

"I'm your _wife_!"

"You are my wife who hasn't made love to me in eight years," Lucius growled. "You are my wife who wanted to sleep in a different bedroom. You are my _wife_ who has slept with a different man every week for years and never tried to hide it! Don't pretend you're my wife!"

Although Hermione sunk back into the cushions, Narcissa wasn't fazed.

"She's a Mudblood - a half-wolf Mudblood! Don't sully the Malfoy name!"

"No, Cissa," he said. "I did that with you."

Then he slammed the door, turned and hurled Narcissa's wand out the window.

An awkward blanket of silence covered the room.

Narcissa hadn't slept with Lucius for eight years? She wouldn't even share his room? Hermione knew Lucius was usually a insufferable Death Eater - but who could... pass that up?

She shook her head to focus.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly.

"You don't need to apologize," he said, his expression becoming more relaxed. "I've been dueling with her for years. You're certainly not the trigger. Besides, I captured you. Bought you. Enslaved you. Remember?"

He suddenly seemed predatory as he joined her on the bed. Without his shirt, Hermione felt extremely small.

"I'm going to meet Yani again today," she said. "Maybe I can find out more about him."

But Lucius wasn't listening. Instead he trailed his fingertips down her arm. His touch left a line of fire on her skin. His hair swung forward, just asking her to bury her fingers in it and tug...

"Bathroom!" Hermione squeaked, jumped off the bed and stumbled backwards.

Merlin's baggy slacks, what was _wrong_ with her?

"Could have something to do with being a 18-year-old, half-wolf virgin..." she muttered, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

_"Come."_

Hermione whirled toward the misty voice.

_"Come,"_ said a stag Patronus, standing near the tub. It was Harry's.

Then it disappeared.

"Wait!" she whispered. But it was gone. Her mind began whirling. Were they in trouble? Did Harry need help? Did she really care?

Of course she cared. She would always care, and that wasn't fair, she thought.

The Patronus wanted her to follow it. That would probably mean leaving Lucius - running away. No one could know where she was going. No one could follow.

Not so quick.

It could be a trap. The Order could want revenge for Hermione's slaughter, and they were rebuilding their numbers to finally wreak it. The stag would be leading her right into their hands.

Then again, hadn't she killed Mad Eye, their leader? Without him, the Order may have seen sense.

To stall, Hermione drew a bath and soaked, her fingers floating idly in the bubbles.

"Miss Granger." Lucius opened the door, and Hermione instinctively curled to hide. His stormy gaze slipped down her curves.

"Knock!" she shrieked. He chuckled and reached for his hair brush. "You can't just barge in anywhere you like, you bastard!"

"This is my house - I certainly can barge in... anywhere I want." His eyes darkened at her. "I believe I've shown an amazing amount of restraint not doing so."

"I disagree."

Lucius' right eyebrow raised in his usual disdain. He sat on the edge of the tub while Hermione pulled her knees tighter against her chest, and he leaned his hands behind either side of her head.

"I could crawl in this tub with you right now, Miss Granger, all wet and lathered, and slide up against you. Would you like that, my dear?" She shivered. "Would you like me to wash that God-awful, unruly hair, and unlock those tight knees of yours?"

"Oh, get out!" Hermione splashed water at him, and Lucius jumped back, still smirking.

"Remember, witch," he said, his gaze lingering on her bare knees. "A Malfoy always gets what he wants."

Then he was gone, and Hermione was dried off and dressed within one minute.

* * *

_"Come."_

The stag was standing in the trees, waiting for her. Hermione inched forward, wondering if she was being foolish.

No, she had to go. She had to know if the Light side was finally going to fight again. She had to know if they stood a chance or... if they needed her. If Harry was...

"Where?" she asked the Patronus. An image flashed in front of her. For a moment, Hermione dug desperately into her memory, and then realized - Grawp's cave. They were at Grawp's cave.

This was goodbye to Lucius - she hadn't seen him after the bathroom.

Goodbye to Fenrir.

Goodbye to her friends.

Before she could cry, Hermione turned on the spot.

When she arrived, everything was quiet. She was about a hundred feet outside the cave entrance. No one was in sight.

Her wolfish senses heightened. She could smell people inside the cave - hear their breathing and feel their nerves. And there were lots of nerves.

Suddenly, Hermione felt nothing but fury, and she was striding to the cave as if to knock the world over. How _dare_ they be nervous? How _dare_ they after what they did to her?

She passed a barrier and people were visible. They were all standing inside the cave, staring at her. Although none had their wands raised, Hermione glared at each of them. There were some faces from the last encounter. There were new ones. McGonagall. Mr. Weasley. Luna and Cho.

There were Harry and Ron.

"How dare you call me back," Hermione seethed.

"Hermione," started Ron.

"Do not speak!" she said. "Do not even _move_, Ronald, or I'll hurt you."

The silence and nerves grew stronger.

"You..." Hermione's voice shook from rage. She paused and began again. "I was your friend for so long. I was never disloyal. I was always on your side. Did you even try to find me?"

"We wanted to, but Mad Eye-"

Hermione moved quickly, her fist clipping Ron in the face. He yelled in pain. Blood spurted from his nose where she punched him.

"That was a rhetorical question. I told you to be quiet," she said. Still, no one moved. Harry hadn't even opened his mouth. His green eyes were turning vivid with tears, but Hermione wanted none of it.

"You may nod," she said. "Did you know I was bitten?"

Slowly, Ron nodded yes.

"Did you know I was captured?"

He nodded again

Hermione continued.

"When I came to you, I thought I was safe. No. You knocked me out, tied me up in the attic with the other deceased and beat me to silence."

McGonagall tried to silence her sniffles in a handkerchief. Hermione wondered why no one had drawn a wand. Surely she seemed like a threat.

"This!" Hermione tugged up her sleeve to reveal Lucius' mark on her wrist. "Lucius marked me before he let me go. The man knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you would all reject me."

"So you went back to the Death Eater scum?" Ron snapped, his ears red.

"Ron." Harry's voice cut like a knife on fire. Hermione never heard him so lethal.

"Lucius doesn't hurt me. Lucius doesn't tie me up and beat my jaw to pieces," Hermione hissed. "And Fenrir. He loves me. That's more than I can say for you lot."

Harry's fingers made a quick swipe across his cheek, but he stayed silent.

"Since you look fine," Hermione finally met gazes with Harry, "I'm leaving."

Several steps outside the cave, Harry caught up to her, grabbed her hands in his and fell to his knees.

"I'm so, so sorry, Hermione," he breathed. "I'm more sorry than you will ever know. Please. Please."

Hermione pursed her lips together, staring down at Harry's shaking shoulders.

"You're supposed to be our hero," she said listlessly.

"I know," he said, looking up at her now. "I wasn't then. I never was, Hermione. After you were abused and killed Mad Eye, something snapped. I realized that I need to be _more_."

Hermione sighed and pulled Harry to his feet. When had he gotten so tall?

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I know what I'm doing now," he said, blinking hard. "I have plans to take out Voldemort. I have back-up plans and back-ups for those. I have connections and a following. I'm trying hard to fix the Order. Every DA member old enough has joined, Mione."

He gave her a small smile.

"I'm going to make it right, and I'm going to start with you," he told her.

"You can't make me right again," she said, but realized she was clutching his hands.

"I don't care about your wolf blood. I'm talking about us. I'm talking about your part in my plan."

"That's presumptuous," she scathed. Harry looked vulnerable again under her long stare. Then she sighed and said, "Talk."

* * *

Let's all join Team Finish-the-Fic!

I'm trying to finish the fanfiction I've posted, because I hate to leave things hanging. And I want to make you happy. :) Hopefully, I'll be able to do a weekly update.

So what do you think? Review please!

Love!

Soline


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

Chapter Twelve

Hermione sat cross-legged, staring across a mossy mound into Severus Snape's intense gaze. She noticed for the first time that his eyes were not actually black but a very deep chocolate brown.

She'd never noticed before, because she was usually ducking her head or staring straight at the blackboard.

"Are you thinking of the wall?" he suddenly said, and those muddy eyes relaxed a bit.

"No," Hermione said, surprised.

"No?" He looked suspicious. "I was trying very hard to get in, Granger. If you kept me out, what were you thinking of?"

"Um," she said. "My mind was just pondering one specific thought."

"Indeed," he said and his long white finger tapped his lips. "That would be useful as long as you're thinking of something harmless. Again. Legilimens!"

A tickling feeling touched Hermione's forehead.

Mum and Dad, Hermione thought. She wondered where they were - if they were alive. Were they happy? Were they sitting in a boat on Orchard Lake, where the family went every year for vacation? No, they wouldn't. They wouldn't go without her, and she was dead to them.

"Harry Potter," Snape said.

_"We need you to turn the human-wolf pack against Voldemort," Harry said to her. "We need you to lead them. Lead their mutiny."_

"Stop," Hermione groaned and dropped her head in her hand. "All right. I know. I'll picture the wall."

Snape sighed and stood to stretch his legs. It was only their first lesson in Hermione's Occlumency, and she was learning decently well, if you asked her. Snape, however, had little patience.

"You're nowhere near ready for the Dark Lord's skills," he said. "We'll have to practice every day."

Hermione moved to stand and Snape snapped, "Sit!"

"Why?"

"Sit there and picture that wall until you know every detail of every crack and cranny in it. When I return tomorrow, I expect you to be flawless."

Then Snape turned and walked into the woods. He rubbed his temple hard before Apparating. Hermione sighed and slumped, staring straight ahead at an imaginary wall.

* * *

"I'll need you to act up until the very last minute, Hermione. Everyone must believe that you truly hate me and the Order. Everyone must believe you adore Voldemort," Harry said.

They were sitting on the same grassy mound. Ron was flicking twigs in the dirt some feet away, not looking at her. Remus sat cross-legged near them, saying little. His eyes shone at Harry with pride every now and then.

"I know," Hermione said. "How long will I be acting?"

"It won't be long now," Harry said. "Not long..."

He stared at something beyond Hermione that no one else could see.

"Deliveries!" a voice rang out. It was McGonagall, who had returned from Hogsmeade with a fresh batch of lifted goods. Hermione jumped up and met her, reaching for the Daily Prophet before anyone else had the chance.

She checked it everyday. Everyday now, for two weeks, she scoured the ink for Fenrir or Lucius' names. She never knew if they'd be killed or captured and thrown into Azkaban.

And today she found something.

**Pureblood Lady Malfoy found murdered**

**Officials were called to the Malfoy Manor early Wednesday morning after Lady Narcissa Malfoy was found murdered in the foyer. **

**Reports show that Malfoy was discovered with her wand drawn, but there was no evidence of visible hexes or injuries to her body. Investigators suspect foul play from husband Lucius Malfoy.**

**"It's true that Cissa and I have been growing apart for some time," Lucius Malfoy told reporters. "However, I would never harm her - we've been connected since childhood."**

**Lucius Malfoy also issued a public statement as what many are calling a 'call for revenge': "I know my enemies, and I have many. Nearly all of them are cruel enough to enter my house to murder my companion. Know this - I will find you."**

**Police report no evidence to hold against Lucius Malfoy, but investigations are still pending. **

Hermione sunk behind a tree, wishing to be alone, and read the story again. Beside the article was a photo of Lucius and Narcissa dancing on their wedding day, smiling sappily at one another.

_"I would never harm her."_

Not true. He would. Hermione saw it.

Lucius hated Narcissa with his very soul. Did she finally cross some line and add gasoline to Lucius' hatred?

Maybe he didn't kill Narcissa. Maybe...

Hermione ripped that article from the paper, balled it up and stuck it in her pocket.

* * *

"You're not concentrating!" Snape hissed.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're lazy." When Hermione started to retort, Snape said, "No, you stupid, careless girl! Potter is counting on the strength of your numbers. He's counting on you to lead!"

"I know-"

"I don't think you do," he sneered. "You have no idea what it takes to be an imposter. Yet here you are, you foolish thing, ready to barge in to the Dark Lord's grasp with such little training."

"I'm just distracted," Hermione sighed.

"Oh? Legilimens."

Hermione made a small noise of discomfort as Snape gripped her arm and forced himself into her head.

_Investigators suspect foul play from husband Lucius Malfoy._

_"I would never harm her."_

_Hermione was in a dark purple dress, her thighs shaking._

_"It's wrong," she panted. "They're wrong. _You_ are wrong!"_

_He moved her against the wall, trapping her. His fingers were tugging her dress up._

_"Aren't you aching, girl? Don't you want to be filled?" he growled. She clutched at his robes and said nothing. His hand was already in her panties and her hips moved as he gently worked himself in. "Say you want me."_

"No! I said no!" The wolf reared inside of her. Anger, shame and fear stung her heart. Hermione snarled, her teeth bared, and leaned forward out of her sitting position until she was on all fours. She shoved Snape hard, and he landed on his back with her knee in his stomach.

"You have no right looking!" she growled, her face inches from his. People outside the cave stopped to look at them.

A tear dripped into Snape's hair, and she realized it was hers.

Then she knew she was homesick for the Malfoy Manor.

She wanted Fenrir's arms protecting her. She wanted to wake up beside Lucius - the man who killed his wife. She bet he did. But Hermione wanted them back.

"Snape," Hermione choked. Right before she started running, his fingertips touched her arm.

Her feet flew over the dirt, and she knew it was close to the full moon. It was nearly time to return.

* * *

Hermione faced the cave with a stony heart, just like she'd arrived. Harry faced her with the same hard expression. There was no time for weakness.

"You won't have a warning," he said. "It would be too risky. Just be ready."

"I will," she said. Hermione turned. Every eye of the Order followed her, looking gloomy as if at a funeral. Even McGonagall began to cry.

"Hermione!" cried Ron.

"No!" she snapped, half-turning. Ron stopped abruptly. "We're not doing this now, Ronald. You can apologize later."

She Apparated.

Fearless, Hermione chanted. Her spine straightened as she gazed at the Malfoy Manor.

She'd been gone for a month, but the gate allowed her to walk straight in. The ballroom windows were darkened. Merlin, things were set up perfectly. Voldemort was already holding a meeting, and he was inside.

Fearless. Thunder rolled above Hermione's head. Dark clouds followed her across the lawn, and the full moon loomed ahead.

Fearless, she marched. Strength pulled at her muscles. She could already see the imaginary wall, which would hide everything from Voldemort. The wall had little cracks. Snape taught her leak small amounts of information, fabricated or not, through those cracks to Voldemort.

The ballroom doors opened with her fingertips' touch. Every Death Eater mask turned, and Voldemort's red eyes gleamed through the dimness.

"My Lord," she said, falling to her knees.

* * *

**Hello! It's taking some time, but it's moving along. I have the ending playing in my head. ;)**

**Just a note: I really, really appreciate everyone's support and encouragement. However, some behavior is just unacceptable. I'm talking to you, ZabuzasGirl. I don't mind if people PM me, but do not curse at me and tell me to "get the hell back to it." I'm trying, with a husband and a very demanding job. I love my readers, but I don't get paid for this, so disrespect is not tolerated. **

**Alright, enough ranting. Please review, thanks! :)**

**Love! Soline**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter Thirteen

The silence was thick, but through it she could smell Lucius. She could breathe in the turmoil of emotions rolling over him at the sight of her.

Hermione remained on her knees, the rest of her body straight and her eyes cast down.

"Come," said Voldemort after the pause.

Hermione climbed to her feet and, gazing at the floor, walked to the front of the room. When she arrived before him, she knelt again.

"What is this? You're Harry Potter's friend, Hermione Granger. Greyback's she-wolf," he stated. Hermione nodded in agreement. He didn't ask her to speak yet, so she didn't. "I was made aware that you went missing. Now you're back, and you're kneeling at my feet. Why, Hermione Granger?"

When Hermione looked up, her eyes were full of tears.

"Revenge, my Lord," she said. "I want my revenge."

Voldemort didn't even speak the words - he delved into her mind without warning. His intrusion held more sting than Snape's, but Hermione kept her resolve.

She showed him what happened when she visited the Order months ago, when they abandoned and abused her and when she killed them while escaping. She let Voldemort feel her yearning for Fenrir. She showed him her anger when approaching the Order at the cave, and the image of her punching Ron in the face.

She showed him fabricated memories of herself creeping around the cave, listening to meetings and sabatoging their supplies. It had taken her weeks to perfect those memories - it wouldn't have been possible without Snape's tutelage.

She let him feel the betrayal and hatred that still remained deep in her heart.

When Voldemort pulled away, Hermione slumped a little. It would do no good to show him all her strength. Just most.

"What a darling traitor we have," he murmured, looking down at Hermione's head. "You spied on them?"

"It took some time to find them, my Lord. When I did, they wouldn't fight me," she sneered. "So I will hurt them in another way."

"But they hurt you before, did they not?"

"I killed Mad-Eye that night," she said. "He was brainwashing them."

Voldemort made a noise of approval - no wand and Hermione killed a seasoned Auror? She knew that would be impressive.

"Stand," he said. When Hermione was looking at his collarbone, he said, "You address me as your Lord. Your Dark Lord."

"Yes," she breathed. The adrenaline seared her veins. Her wolf blood grew stronger by the second. If she didn't run - scream - break something, she would burst. She'd come on the full moon night for this reason - to be stronger than the others. "The Dark side is my home now. This is my home. The people I love are all here, and I want to fight with them."

Voldemort chuckled.

"Who do you love?" he asked.

"Fenrir," she said. "And Snape. And..."

Hermione flicked her eyes up at Voldemort, naked in her insecurity for a moment. She felt a quick sweeping of her mind, and his thin lips curled into a smile.

"Aren't you a Mudblood?" he said. Hermione nodded grimly, and his red hot eyes narrowed for several seconds. "Then you will have to work harder to prove yourself."

"Yes, my Lord," she breathed. "At the first chance."

And she gazed curiously up at him, akin to what she'd seen Bellatrix Lestrange do.

"I can tell you where Harry Potter and the Order are right now. The cave is northeast of Hogsmeade, up in the hills a few miles. They have it protected with the usual charms. About thirty of them are grouped there," she said.

Voldemort's hands twitched, and the Death Eaters twittered. For a moment he thought, and then smiled at her again. His smile, however pleasantly he may have meant it, would always be terrifying.

"It's a full moon, she-wolf," Voldemort said. "Don't you want to run?"

"Should I go with you, my Lord?" she said.

If she did, it was okay. Harry had predicted that Voldemort might bring her. They were ready for the attack.

"You're not in my ranks yet, Mudblood," he snapped. Hermione fell to her knees again.

"Forgive me."

Voldemort's fingers rested on the top of her head, and Hermione jumped.

"You're a mutt," he said, "but you may serve me well."

With that, Voldemort made a motion and the black-cloaked followers Apparated away. Voldemort had also gone.

And Hermione's feet were a blur over the ballroom floor. One more thunder clap rocked the air, and the sky poured down it's relief. Hermione was soaked with rain as soon as she ran off the manor's porch.

The storm's raw power was making her crazy - driving the wolf inside to a new level. She longed to sink her teeth into something that would burst with the flavor of life.

"GRANGER!" someone roared. Hermione turned to see Lucius leaping off the porch, his wand flourished. "GRANGER, STAY RIGHT THERE!"

No, her legs itched to move and her mind was slipping to animalism. She couldn't-

Lucius Stunned her, and Hermione fell in shock. She felt herself sink into the dampening ground. A lightning bolt struck across the sky above her, and suddenly Lucius was there with a knife in his hand.

"This spell won't last on me. Not now!" Hermione said, already beginning to move again.

"I won't let you go again!" he yelled back. The knife glinted in his hand.

"What are you going to do? Bleed me?" she screamed, her hands twitching. The faster the spell broke, the faster she could fight him off. "Do it!"

Lucius straddled her, rain streaming off the ends of his hair. His eyes were maddened, moving as if looking for something in her own angry gaze.

Then he pushed the knife toward her wrist and stopped again. His chest heaved, his clothes sticking like a second skin. A groan erupted from his chest like a wounded animal, and he threw the knife to the side.

His lips fell on hers, the rain making the kiss slick and feverish for warm contact. Muddy hands buried in Hermione's hair, pulling her face into a better position as Lucius plundered her mouth.

The spell snapped, and Hermione's hands were suddenly moving, but she pulled Lucius closer. Whimpers and growls fell from her, and the deepening mud felt like home. Lucius looked down in surprise and lightning lit Hermione's eyes.

Her mind was lost to the wolf.

Her own hands fumbled with the button of her jeans, and Lucius reached down to help. Her jeans and shoes were tugged off, and Hermione panted as she pushed him downward.

There was a moment of silence between thunder and lightning, and Lucius' mouth enveloped her. Her cry beat in time with the next thunder clap. He pushed her knees skyward as he laid his tongue into her, and Hermione's hands knotted in his wet hair.

She felt a memory - fingers curling into her and twirling in the wetness.

She knew no words. She didn't remember how to speak them. She just wanted to howl.

When Hermione looked down, Lucius' eyes glinted up at her and he sucked on her pulsing skin.

She shrieked, toes curling in the air. Satiation rolled over her body like ocean waves on the hottest summer day, and Hermione could only tumble down into it. She clung to Lucius briefly as he kissed her lower stomach, and the lightning flashed again.

_Run._

Hermione fumbled in the mud, trying to get to her knees and then her feet.

_Run._

Gasping for air, she stumbled forward and then tore into the night, into the trees, alone.

* * *

She woke by a stream, only half-clothed in her blouse and bra. As soon as Hermione sat up, she knew the night before had been vicious. Deep claw marks marred her calf and bruises covered her body.

Then she remembered why she was naked from the waist down, and she began sobbing. Tears built up from the past month poured down her cheeks, and Hermione shook, unable to control anything.

"Hermione?" Fenrir skidded into sight, having tracked a rain-soaked scent. She tried to quickly cover herself, but at the sight of her maker, the tears came fresh.

Her body was covered with Fenrir's blood-scented cloak. He sat and pulled her fully into his lap.

"I'm s-sorry." It was all she could say, and Hermione was wracked with sobs again. Whether he was mad at her or not, Fenrir enveloped her in his thick arms as if she were his small curly-haired child.

* * *

**Aw, I do love them, don't you? Two in a night! Yay, review please! :)**

**Love! Soline**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Cub, what have you done?"

Hermione shook her head and pushed closer to Fenrir's chest.

"Where did you go for a month?"

There was an edge to Fenrir's voice. He wanted to be furious, but not while Hermione remained distraught.

"I went to the Order of the Phoenix," she muttered.

"_What?_" he snarled.

Hermione closed her eyes, preparing to lie to Fenrir. He would not perform Legilimency on her, but that did not make this any less difficult.

"I hate them, Fenrir," she began. "After what they did to me, I needed closure. Revenge."

"I would have given any of their heads to you, cub. You only had to ask."

Fenrir's large, blood-specked hand reached up to stroke Hermione's hair. He must have fed viciously the night before, but now he worked gently and patiently though the knots in her curls.

"No, I want my own revenge," Hermione said. "But they wouldn't fight me. They tried to welcome me back. Bastards.

"Now I've taken a different route. Now I've given myself up to the Dark Lord, and through him, I will make them... bleed."

For a moment, silence echoed off the surrounding trees, and then Hermione landed on her butt in the dirt.

"YOU DID WHAT?" Fenrir roared over her. Birds squawked overhead and flapped away. "Say it again! Gave yourself to _who_?"

When Fenrir was angry, he bared his teeth, still bloodied from last night. His chest expanded and fists balled, and his eyes darkened in fury.

It was the first time Hermione had ever seen it - she couldn't help but whimper.

"Fenrir..."

"It would be different if you were in my pack," Fenrir spat, pacing circles around her. "But you have no protection this way. I can't protect you from him. No, to him, you're just a Mudblood mutt. A freak for him to use against Potter."

In tears, Hermione jumped up and intercepted Fenrir's pacing. With all her strength, she pushed on Fenrir's shoulders and knocked him back a step.

"I want to fight with you! And I will! There are people I love on this side, and I love you! This is where I belong, so deal with it!"

Hermione whirled around on her heel and marched away. When she looked over her shoulder, Fenrir was gone and she waited for a while. After she counted to thirty and Fenrir did not show again, Hermione dragged her feet forward.

Now she had to face Lucius.

Hermione shuddered. Just last night, she raped the man. At least, she felt it was rape. She forced him down on her and held him there until she...

He was not waiting for her when she reached the Malfoy Manor. She did not see him all the way to her room. She even had the chance to bathe, dress and find a quiet place in the library.

Although a thick book laid wide open in her lap, she never read a word. The storm clouds rolling in the sky were reminding her of Lucius and the feel of his lips between her thighs.

"Miss Granger." His voice was quiet and deep like far-off thunder.

As soon as she looked at him, Hermione flushed scarlet.

"Ah... hi," she said and gripped the book. "Last night... I'm..."

"Yes, last night," Lucius purred and walked to her. Hermione thought her shoulders must be to her ears by now with tension. "Stand... please."

Somehow, Hermione found her feet and her words.

"Lucius, I'm so sorry," she said tearfully. Why couldn't she stop crying today? "I'm really, really-"

Suddenly, his hands lifted Hermione's bum onto the windowsill, pushed up her dress and kneeled so his face was level with her quim. Despite Hermione's cry of surprise, Lucius hooked a fingertip under the crotch of her panties, pulled them aside and licked her firmly from perineum to clitoris.

"Lu-L-Lucius!" she shrieked, her fingers gripping the window frame and toes curling.

"Every time you apologize for what happened last night-" Lucius paused to kiss her reddening nub "-I'm going to do it again."

"Wait! Wait... Oh."

She couldn't remember much of Lucius' technique from the night before because of the wolf, but now she felt every... little... detail.

His tongue was smooth like velvet and slid easily through her growing wetness. When his stubble grazed her thighs, Hermione wailed with the overload of sensations. Lucius noticed and immediately hung her legs over his shoulders, so his stubble brushed against her repeatedly.

Rain started to beat at the window behind Hermione, although she barely noticed. Instead, her fingers stroked through Lucius' long hair and he purred against her.

"Miss Granger," he said and licked. "You've done well, little wolf. The Dark Lord is very happy with you."

Despite Lucius sliding a thick finger into her warmth, Hermione choked out words.

"He is? Why?"

Lucius leaned back to look at her, his finger still pumping into her slowly, and said, "They did not catch anyone during the ambush last night, but the Dark Lord retrieved Potter's wand. Now Potter will have to use a different wand, and it will not have the same bond to the Dark Lord's. Yes... he's pleased with you. As am I."

Hermione thought Lucius' pleasure came from a different source.

Thought would come later. For now, Hermione whimpered and reached out to Lucius. He took pity on her and leaned forward again with a smile. Hermione's breathy moan filled the library and she pulled her knees up to her chest, giving Lucius full access.

He took the chance to sink his tongue deep inside her and squeeze her inflamed nub. Hermione came onto his lips while screaming Lucius' name.

When she opened her eyes, Lucius's face was inches away and she could smell her juices on his breath.

"What if I said I was sorry again?" she muttered.

Lucius laughed.

For a moment, he looked normal. A happy man with bright eyes and a good life.

"Lucius," Hermione said softly, suddenly remembering. Her fingers reached up to push back his hair. "Will you tell me the truth? Did you kill Narcissa?"

His happy eyes dulled.

"I did," he said.

"Why?"

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Lucius sighed and pulled Hermione away from the windowsill.

"When you left, it had a great effect on me. I was... upset," he said. "When Narcissa saw me, she was angry that I felt that way about you. She grew jealous and finally vindictive. We fought. I didn't mean to kill her, but she blocked a jinx and fell down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she was dead."

He waited, searching Hermione's gaze for a hint of judgement.

"Do you regret it?" she asked.

"I do not."

She knew this man had killed before. She knew he and Narcissa had hated each other. Looking at him, she found she could not judge for any of it. She had also killed before.

"The Dark Lord wants to see you," Lucius continued, looking troubled now. "In twenty minutes, he will meet you in the foyer. Do you have any questions?"

"Head down and mouth closed until spoken to?" Hermione said, her stomach suddenly tightening. She hadn't expected to see Voldemort so soon.

As she walked from the library, Lucius called, "There's no turning back once you take his mark, Hermione."

She peered over her shoulder at him.

"I know."

* * *

**Here's another chapter! I should have more time to write now, and I'm planning to wrap things up on this story. Keep coming back!**

**Please review! **

**3 Soline**


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